


Vexen's Quest for Respect

by Pedrock



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Absurd, Comedy, Gen, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25287190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pedrock/pseuds/Pedrock
Summary: An absurd tale of how Vexen got his groove back during the events between Birth by Sleep and Kingdom Hearts I.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	1. The Pitch

“Charts, reports, diagrams, pointer, laser pointer, pen…pen…pen…BOY!”

Vexen attacked the clutter in his office with a ferocity reserved for the most eccentric academics, throwing all matter of papers and utensils in the air. “Boy! Where’s my pen?!”

His loyal apprentice Zexion entered the room, carrying notes of his own. “Which pen?”

“My presenting pen!” Vexen clarified, now desperately searching under his desk. “The one I use to sternly underline my theses!”

“I’m sure Xemnas will be able to keep up, Vexen.”

“But what about…” Vexen attempted to get up, only banging his head on his desk. “DAMN IT ALL!”

“Are you alright…”

“YES, I’M ALRIGHT!” Vexen shrugged off Zexion’s help, rubbing his skull as he got to his feet. “But what about the others! You know this group. It’s a circus of fools! We need to be as elaborate as possible.”

“Look, we can do without the pen, Vexen. Here,” Zexion searched his cloak, revealing his preferred writing utensil. “We can use this.”

Vexen snatched the pen from his assistant’s grasp, eying it carefully. “But…it’s a red pen.”

“…yes, it is.”

“RED IMPLIES ERROR! IT DEMANDS CORRECTION! TO PAINT MY RESEARCH IN RED SUGGESTS MY WORK NEEDS REVISION! _ARE YOU SUGGESTING MY WORK NEEDS IMPROVEMENT?!_ ”

“Just use the pen, Vexen.”

“Gah! The gall!” He pocketed the pen in one of his handy zippers. “Fine! Is everything in order?”

“I have the whiteboard ready…”

“And the replica?”

“Ready for a demonstration.” Zexion put his hand on his mentor’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Vexen. This pitch will go smoothly. I know it.”

Vexen smiled, in spite of his nerves. “Alright. Let’s stun the world!”

* * *

“…and for those reasons, I think we should have a weekly game night on Thursdays to help improve our overall synergy so we can truly function as a unit.”

“Thank you, Luxord,” Xemnas drawled, perched on the highest of chairs in the Round Room. “We will consider this ‘game night.’ But fair warning: you would be responsible for the acquisition of said games.” He waved Luxord off. “You may return to your seat.”

Moderate applause followed as Luxord left the stage.

“Alright.” Xemnas eyed his memo-pad. “Up next on today’s agenda is Vexen and Zexion’s…” He released a beleaguered sigh. “…Replica Program.”

Zexion wheeled the whiteboard onto the stage, and right behind him was Vexen with his papers. Tired applause preceded their arrival.

“Thank you, thank you,” Vexen responded to the admittedly weak greeting. “I assure you we won’t be long _this_ time.”

“I should hope so,” Saix spoke up. “We have other matters to attend to besides this robot business.”

Vexen glared at the moon-man with contempt before continuing, “You need not concern yourself with ‘other matters’ after you’ve seen what I have to show you today!”

“Out with it then!” Xaldin urged his colleague. “We have bagels and coffee after this meeting, and I’ll be damned if you prolong this meeting any further.”

“Yes. O-of course.” Vexen cleared his throat. “As many of you know, we’ve reached a roadblock in our creation of Kingdom Hearts. How many hearts have we collected, Zexion?”

Zexion handily drew a ‘zero’ on the whiteboard, to which Vexen pointed with an undeniable enthusiasm. “That’s right! None! Would anybody wish to explain why?”

A bored silence followed. Someone released a dry cough.

Vexen decided to answer his own question. “Because despite our best efforts, we have yet to recruit a Keyblade wielder. That was the case the last time we pitched the idea, such is the case now.”

“Do I detect a criticism of our admissions department?” Saix interjected. “Because I’m confident Xigbar has been hard at work scouting talent.”

“Wha?” Xigbar slurred, as if woken from a deep slumber. “Oh. Oh, yeah! Super-hard. Keyblade wielders aren’t as out and proud as they used to be. Is it time for bagels and coffee, yet?”

“NO, IT’S…” Vexen caught himself, regaining his temper. “Anyway, as of this moment, there are no active Keyblade wielders. But should that change, what is our plan? To passively wait for the wielder to collect enough hearts? Our Organization is a lot of things, but dare I say, passive is not one of them!”

Vexen anticipated applause. There was none.

“Yes! We are not passive!” Vexen swallowed, wiping some sweat from his brow. “So when that Keyblade wielder should arrive, we should be proactive. Hence, the Replica Program!” He turned on his projector, and slid his paperwork under the lens, presenting his research on the SMART Board behind Xemnas for everyone to see.

“Whoa!” Demyx cried in shock. Vexen’s hope was piqued that someone took interest in his work. “When did we get that SMART Board installed?”

Vexen was defeated yet again. “As I was saying, Part One: data collection…”

“Wait. There are _parts_ to this?” Axel cried in disbelief.

“Yes, if you’ll just let me elaborate…”

Axel groaned, burying his face in his hands, catching the eye of the Superior. “No. 8 has a point, Vexen. If you’d just highlight the significant aspects of your project…”

“But…they’re all significant!”

“I doubt it,” Saix said snidely.

“Fine!” Vexen surrendered. “Zexion! My pen!” Zexion handed him the red pen, with which Vexen began underlining parts of his report. “First, we’ll have to engage the wielder in combat…”

“Is that a red pen?” Marluxia interrupted Vexen’s presentation. “That’s rather unprofessional. I can’t tell if you’re emphasizing something or correcting it.” He followed this sentence with the haughtiest of haughty laughter.

Vexen glared at Zexion, his mind seared with a thousand regrets, the least of which was the loss of his presenting pen.

“Enough of this drivel!” Xaldin interjected yet again. “Get to the point already.”

“Fine!” Vexen turned off the projector. “We shall present the abilities of one our prototypes. This prototype is a replica…of one of our own members!”

A slightly excited murmuring resonated throughout the Round Room. Vexen couldn’t help but smile, having finally hooked his audience. Xemnas raised his hand, signaling his unit to cease their rumblings.

“Zexion…bring forth the replica!” Vexen commanded his apprentice.

Zexion opened a trunk, the body of the Organization’s own Larxene falling out. That is to say, a convincing duplicate.

“Behold, Prototype 11!” Vexen held the limp replica up. “I need just turn her on…”

“Ugh! Gross!” Larxene cried in revulsion.

“What is it?! What is it now?!” Vexen demanded to know what minor stupidity interrupted his presentation yet again.

“You have a mannequin of me?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“A-actually, it’s a carbon copy…” Zexion dared to speak up.

“That’s worse!” Larxene snapped back. “What kind of sick perverts do you have to be to do something like this?”

A much more engaged Xigbar seconded that, now very much awake and paying close attention to Vexen’s lecture. “You bet.”

“Of course you’d look at this from a base perspective such as that!” Vexen dismissed Larxene. “Now, back to the demonstration…”

“No. 11 has a point. I think this violates one of our Terms and Conditions…” Xemnas interjected.

Saix already had the document before him. “Article 19, Section H. An Organization member is prohibited from violating the privacy of his or her colleagues. I believe cloning someone falls under here somewhere.”

“Oh, piffle to those rules!” Vexen cried in anger.

The Organization collectively gasped at this controversial statement.

“We can’t say piffle to the rules!” Luxord protested. “Life depends on rules! We need rules!” His fellow members nodded in agreement and rewarded this statement with thunderous applause. Vexen was stunned.

Xemnas nodded. “Indeed. Vexen, you have created a sin against nature much more grievous than anyone of us can imagine. And for that you must…” He paused, before turning to Saix. “What’s the penalty for creating sins against nature?”

Saix flipped through the pages of the Organization’s Terms and Conditions before settling on the desired page. “A two-week suspension.”

“What?!” Vexen cried in shock.

“Two-week suspension it is.” Xemnas raised his hand. “Meeting adjourned. Bagels and coffee in the Grey Room in five. Farewell.”

And just like that, one by one, the Organization members faded away, leaving a flabbergasted Vexen and Zexion alone with their Larxene look-alike.

The apprentice finally broke the silence. “If it’s any consolation, a two-week suspension gives us more time for research.”

“Bah!” Vexen shrugged Zexion off, retreating from the Round Room to wallow in his sorrow.

* * *

As dire as a two-week suspension is, Vexen was still allowed to partake in bagels and coffee. However, since no one wished to have his company, he did so outside, looking out at the Skyline That Never Was. Feebly, he nibbled at his everything-bagel.

 _A true irony, we Nobodies eating everything-bagels. As if we can ever aspire to more than nothing._ Vexen sighed. _At least I can’t._

“Is everything alright, Vexen?”

Vexen turned to find Zexion joining him on the balcony. “As alright as you could expect.”

“I’ve been asking around,” Zexion propped himself against the railing, sipping his coffee. “Lexaeus was intrigued by our presentation, at least.”

“Oh, wonderful. The golem supports our research. I feel so encouraged.” Vexen scoffed. “Why do you get to eat inside anyway?”

“According to Saix, I was an accomplice to your degeneracy. By that logic, they gave me a lesser punishment. I’m apparently a victim to your mad ravings.”

“Mad ravings. Unbelievable…” Vexen took a ferocious bite from his everything-bagel, now speaking with a full mouth. “You’re lucky, being intelligent and young. You still have hopes that people will listen to you.” He swallowed and then sighed. “Do you know what the problem is with us intellectuals? No one respects us. No one cares to hear what we have to say, even if we’re the smartest people in the group!”

“It isn’t _that_ bad…”

“Oh, really?” Vexen countered. “That dolt Luxord was lauded for suggesting a weekly game night. But I, who has toiled for this Organization for years, who has broken his back delving into the secrets of our nonexistence, who has suffered greatly at everyone’s expense, am subject to the cruelest criticism! Why must life be so hard?!”

“You make it seem so terrible. As if we’re doomed to fail…”

“Aren’t we, Zexion? Aren’t we condemned to follow orders, trapped in this bleak, bleak castle?! Oh, to think of the potential I’m squandering here. Yet, where else will I be accepted? Creatures like us are one of a kind, restricted to this sorry group we call an Organization.”

“Vexen…”

“Think of it! We’re the most endangered species in the universe! Humanoid samples of nothing! And what do we do but bicker in a bland conference room and visit worlds far more interesting than our own!”

“Vexen!”

“We can change the world, you and me! _All_ of the worlds! We know more about the workings of the heart than anyone else in the universe! We just need people to listen to us! Proper colleagues, comrades, cohorts…”

“VEXEN, WATCH OUT!”

But it was too late, for the blazing object that was falling from the sky that had caught the young apprentice’s attention struck Vexen in the head.

“Argh! My skull!” Vexen groaned in pain, hoping one of his colleagues would hear him from inside. Alas, no one did.

Zexion picked up the strange item, analyzing it closely. “Hm. It appears to be some sort of meteorite, two inches in diameter, consisting of…gummi material.”

“Give me that!” Vexen grabbed the gummi from his apprentice’s hand, closely examining it, digging through the malleable material to find a metal orb firmly rooted in the meteorite’s center. “Hm. It seems to contain a censor of some kind. Possibly blown off a bigger ship. See the scorch marks here.”

“Fascinating! I’ve never seen this kind of gummi technology.”

“Nor have I,” Vexen agreed. “What it’s for, though, I cannot say.” It was a fascinating gift from the heavens, this gummi. The chilly academic couldn’t help but look at it. “I will examine this further. Return inside. Enjoy yourself.”

“Whatever you command, Vexen,” Zexion dryly replied, retreating to the rest of the group.

Vexen continued to study the gummi block, carefully rubbing his injured cranium. This would be sure to open numerous possibilities.

* * *

“This is going nowhere!” Vexen cursed himself as he was strolling the castle’s exterior. “It’s just a hunk of junk! Another bundle of false hope! I don’t know why I bother!”

Having given up on yet another failed project, Vexen threw the meteorite aside. Little did he know that the gummi bounced off the castle railing, rolled down the walls, hit Marluxia’s windowsill and fell right into one of the graceful assassin’s flowerbeds, deeply embedded in the soil.

What would transpire overnight would drastically change the course of Vexen’s pitiable life forever.


	2. The Experiment

Vexen did not sleep well. One would think being conked on the head would make one more favorable to sleep, but Vexen was a unique case. He spent most of the night endlessly pondering last night’s incident, contemplating his poor fortune. Rejected projects, head injuries, useless space rocks—Vexen’s suffering was truly of a unique variety.

“Who stole my roses?!”

Marluxia’s voice rang from the hallway, catching Vexen’s attention. Xaldin’s rough brogue followed.

“What the devil would motivate anyone to steal your prize plants?”

“A jealous devil, that’s who.”

“As if we could feel envy.”

“We have some convincing actors in this troupe, Xaldin. You tend to be one of them.”

Vexen rubbed his eyes, very much annoyed that this was the world he was waking up to.

Xigbar’s voice was the next to sound off. “Now, now, gentleman. Take it easy. I think there’s a simple solution to this.”

“What’s that, Xigbar?”

“A Mexican stand-off, of course!”

Vexen groaned, having enough of this childish squabbling. He stormed out of his room, not bothering to comb his hair. “Will you ingrates shut up?! What’s this nonsense about roses I’m hearing?”

Marluxia explained, “They’re gone. Vanished. It’s a shame. They were mature, too.” He glared at Xaldin. “Not like certain brutes would understand.”

“I’m sure there’s a simple explanation. Let me…what’s that stench? Somethings burning.”

Xigbar shrugged. “Probably Axel starting a fire for kicks. You know how he likes to light it up.”

Vexen dismissed the sniper. “But it smells like…”

_Burnt gummi._

“Let me investigate the flowerbed!”

Marluxia waved Vexen off. “Do as you wish. I need to procure new seeds.” He stormed off.

Xigbar scoffed with a smirk. “That, Xaldin, is why a hobby isn’t good for you. Makes you all stuck-up.”

“I dare say that problem isn’t inherent with his hobby, Xigbar.” The two Organization members left Vexen to his own devices.

The academic rushed into Marluxia’s room, digging the soil of the flowerbed, only to find the gummi from last night, smoking. “By God!” He tried to pick it up, but his hands were scorched by merely touching the material. “Damn! How did it get so…hot?” Vexen astutely noted the lights above the soil, hovering his hand right below them. “Artificial sunlight…heat! The gummi censor is reactive to heat!”

Excited by this discovery, Vexen picked up the gummi, only to drop it due to its searing touch. Thinking again, he grabbed it by his sleeve and ran into the hallway.

* * *

“Zexion! Zexion!” Vexen tailed his apprentice down in the Grey Room.

“Oh, Vexen,” Zexion greeted his mentor. “You seem spirited this morning!”

“The gummi block from last night is functional! It works, Zexion!”

“Really? How so?”

“Have you heard about Marluxia’s missing roses?”

“Everyone has. He’s passive-aggressively accused everyone of stealing them. Why do you ask?”

“This gummi destroyed them! Extinguished them from existence without a trace!”

Zexion cocked his eyebrow. “What are you…?”

“The censor in the center, see?” Vexen huddled close to Zexion, showing him the meteorite. “It’s reactive to heat. Feel it!”

Zexion placed a hand on the rock before quickly retracting it. “Ow!”

“Marluxia’s artificial sunlight cooked it slowly overnight, causing the censor to…”

“Destroy the roses?” Zexion questioned in disbelief. “No offense, Vexen but this sounds like a mad raving…”

“Don’t believe me? Fine! We shall conduct an experiment!” Vexen stroked his chin, his mind immediately getting to work. “First, we need a reliable heat source…”

“That’s easy,” Zexion interrupted. “Axel.”

“I said _reliable_ , Zexion.”

“So…what? You just want to heat this rock in the rec room’s microwave? If you want results fast, Axel’s your best chance.”

“Fine! We’ll bring him in on this!” Vexen threw his hands in the air, pacing frantically. “Next, we’ll need a subject. Preferably an animate specimen…”

“Wait wait wait wait _wait_ ,” Zexion interrupted yet again. “You find a potentially dangerous piece of space weaponry, and you want to test it on a _living being_?”

“Of course! What kind of reaction am I going to get from vaporizing something like Luxord’s Connect Four set? We need _all_ the details! _All_ of them! And a living guinea pig will tell us all we need to know about this gummi’s power.”

“OK, say we use a living and breathing organism for our research,” Zexion countered. “What organism is it? There are no animals here, and Marluxia’s flowers are gone. That would leave us Organization members as the only living beings left in the castle, which opens an even _bigger_ question. Who would be stupid enough to allow themselves to be the target of a potentially dangerous superweapon?”

* * *

“I really appreciate you letting me in one of your mad experiments, Vex.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, Demyx!” Vexen replied to the young Organization member with a jolly enthusiasm as he propped the meteorite on a tripod. “Though I’d appreciate you not calling my experiments ‘mad’. Or me ‘Vex,’ for that matter.”

“No problem, my fine science guy!” Demyx shot Vexen a finger-gun before returning to tuning his sitar.

Vexen audibly groaned, propping the tripod to face Demyx.

“So all I have to do is sit here and I’m done?” Demyx asked, still unsure what this gig was all about.

“No doubt the easiest mission you’ve ever been assigned!” Vexen jovially answered. “There’s no foreseeable way that you can possibly fail this.” He paused. “I hope.”

“Awesome.”

Zexion entered Vexen’s room with Axel behind him. “I’ve got our Bunsen Burner.”

“Eh, I’ve been called worse,” Axel joked. “What do you need me to set on fire? Make it quick. I got, like, three missions in Agrabah today.”

“All in good time, my fiery friend,” Vexen assured Axel. “Demyx, are you ready?”

Demyx cheerfully flashed two thumbs-up.

“Excellent! Axel, I command you to…”

“Wait,” Zexion held up his hands to stop the experiment before it began. “I need to, uh, confirm something with you, Vexen.”

“Oh. Alright, then.” Vexen sauntered to the corner with Zexion. “What is it?”

Zexion whispered, “I’m not sure if this experiment’s…ethical!”

“Bah! Why do people constantly bring up ‘ethics?’” Vexen complained in a slightly louder tone. “They’re made up! I thought you knew that!”

“I do but…” Zexion searched for the proper way to say this. “We could kill a comrade right now! One of our own!”

“It’s in the name of science, Zexion! And science takes priority over that brotherhood nonsense.”

“I think the Superior would disagree with you,” Zexion snapped. “You’re already on thin ice with him. If he catches wind of this, he’ll most definitely terminate you.” He did a double-take. “And I can get a two-week suspension for being your accomplice.”

“Then I’ll die for the greater good.”

“Fine. There’s no convincing you,” Zexion gave up. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Vexen scoffed at this morally pretentious tripe. When did the boy grow a heart? No matter. It was time for the marvels of SCIENCE.

“OK, Axel,” Vexen began to explain to his red-haired associate. “When I say so, you will light this meteorite on fire.”

“Simple enough,” Axel replied. “Can I just do it now or…”

“WHEN I SAY SO!” Vexen bellowed to assert his dominance, though it was a feeble attempt. “Zexion and I will stand by and take notes. Demyx. Do…nothing.”

“Alright!” Demyx cheered, still tuning his sitar.

“Splendid!” Vexen raised his hand. “Ready.” Axel took out his chakrams. “Aim.” Zexion watched with bated breath. “Fi…”

“WAIT!”

The entire group turned to face Demyx.

“What is it, boy?” Vexen asked, hands shaking with anticipation.

“I just want to say your presentation yesterday was pretty neat,” Demyx said. “I didn’t understand most of it, but I got the gist. Like, clones? That sounds awesome. Like, imagine if we all clone ourselves. Then we’d be Organization 26! Well, uh, 24 now, but 26 when we get our 13th guy! That’s an awesome idea!”

“Yes, yes, thank you very much. Now if you’ll just…”

“So yeah. I wanted to say you’re a smart guy, and I dig your style.”

That gave Vexen some pause. It was as if he just felt a pang inside him. Could it be…no. Probably an illusion of some kind, brought on by this simpering idiot praising his work. It was a pity he’d be vaporizing one of the few supporters of his research.

But all in the name science.

“Thank you. Ahem,” Vexen reset his count. “Ready. Aim. Fi...”

“Water-boy!”

The group turned in terror to find a very irritable Larxene in the doorway.

“Oh. Hey, Larxene,” Demyx awkwardly saluted the savage nymph. “W-what brings you here?”

“Yes, woman,” Vexen seconded Demyx’s question. “What brings you here? Can’t you see we’re busy conducting…science?”

“I’m missing one of my knives, and I _know_ that brat stole one.”

“Oh, what possible evidence do you have, you crazed banshee?” Vexen yelled angrily.

“Yeah, what evidence?” Demyx repeated with confidence.

“Yesterday, you asked if you could used one of my knives for a sitar pick and I said no,” Larxene explained, fuming. “Then you said something about how I’ll rue the day before storming off. And here we are.”

The room was silent.

“That is pretty damning,” Axel chirped up.

“Well, you know sitar picks,” Demyx nervously chuckled. “They’re pretty small and easy to lose. And your knives work pretty well on the not-sharp side.”

“Oh, my god,” Vexen turned to his guinea pig to find he indeed held the knife as a sitar pick.

“You son of a…” Larxene lunged at Demyx, to which he could only yelp. The two engaged in a scuffle fighting over the miniature blade.

“Stop it! Stop it!” Vexen demanded while also not doing much of anything. “You’re ruining everything!” They did not listen. “Don’t make me step in!” Still, they did not listen. “Alright! You made me do this!” He stepped forward, but Axel put a hand on his shoulder.

“C’mon, old man. Ya gotta admit, this is pretty entertaining.”

“Unhand me, you degenerate!” Vexen shoved Axel’s hand off his back perhaps a bit too forcefully, as Axel dropped one of his chakrams, causing it to discharge. The whole room was enveloped in a swirl of flames in an instant, activating the gummi, and sparking a flash of light!

When the smoke cleared, only Axel and Zexion remained in the room, the mysterious gummi having vanished along with Vexen, Larxene, and Demyx.

“Oh, no,” was all Zexion could say, as the Organization was suddenly down to nine members.

* * *

Vexen awoke in a daze, finding himself surrounded by all manner of greenery. He appeared to be in a jungle of some sort. Is this…what heaven was?

“Ha! Got it! You little worm!”

No. This was hell, quite clearly.

Larxene had finally regained her knife from Demyx, having dusted herself off. “Whatever. Keep it! I’ll just, uh…” The young musician looked around, taking in these unfamiliar surroundings. “Where are we?”

“Astute question,” Vexen said, his voice trembling with fear. Quickly, he eyed the gummi was on the ground a few feet away from them. “It came with us. Remarkable!” He picked it up, only to drop it. “Argh! Still hot!” Stroking his chin, Vexen surmised, “Axel’s fire is ten times hotter than any artificial sunlight. So…if the heat is strong enough…the gummi disappears with the subject! Amazing!”

“What the hell are you on about?!” Larxene snapped at Vexen. “What’s going on? What did you do?”

Vexen ignored the shrew. “It makes sense. This is a _teleportation device_! Wonderful! Which means…” The scientist searched the area and much to his delight found… “Roses. Unrooted roses, most definitely not native to any jungle I’ve heard of.”

“Ohhhhhhh,” Demyx nodded as if he understood. “That’s what this was. You were trying to solve the mystery of Marluxia’s missing roses.”

Vexen stared blankly at the youth. “Yes, sure. That’s good. _Anyway_ , this is such a fruitful discovery. I…I’m a pioneer! A trailblazer! A…”

“Idiot!” Larxene kicked Vexen in the shin, causing him to convulse in pain. “Stupid idiot! Are you telling us you’ve teleported us to God knows where?”

“Actually, Axel did. You see, this gummi is sensitive to…”

“I. Don’t. CARE,” Larxene enunciated carefully. “I just want to get back home and forget about this ever happening.” She flashed her hand in an attempt to open a dark corridor. Nothing happened. “What the…?” She did it again. Still nothing.

“Stop fooling around. You have to do it like _this_!” Vexen flicked his wrist, to no avail. He tried again. “Hgnngh!” Still nothing. “Huaah!” Nothing yet again.

“Could you stop that?” Larxene slapped Vexen’s hand down. “You sound constipated, for Christ’s sake.”

“Constipation to you is effort to the rest of us, you wench!” Vexen scolded the woman.

“Excuse me?!”

Demyx pushed some bushes aside, looking out into the distance. “Uh, guys?”

“You heard me, woman,” Vexen ignored the boy and snapped at Larxene. “You. Are. A wench!”

“Guys?”

“You really are something. And by something, I mean nothing!” Larxene exploded. “More nothing than the rest of us! You talk and talk and talk like you know _everything_ when really, you’re probably talking out of your ass. Like, really? A teleportation device? What are you smoking?!”

“Guys!”

The adversaries turned to find Demyx, perched on a cliff. “I think you should see this.”

Vexen furrowed his brow, curious as to what the matter was. He walked to where Demyx was standing, with Larxene right behind.

“Sweet Jesus…” Vexen trailed off in awe, for before the three Organization members was a land before civilization, a land before technology, a land before time. Indeed, it was a world where giants reptiles roamed the planet. All a manner of dinosaurs traversed the grassy plain below them. It was a stupefying sight, to be sure.

“That wasn’t a teleportation device…was it?” Larxene asked feebly.

“No, wench. It was not.” Vexen looked off dramatically, stunned by his own words. “It’s…a time machine!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am fond of Disney's Dinosaur.


	3. The Predicament

“A time machine?!” Larxene exploded. “Are you shitting me?”

“I wish I was!” Vexen snapped. “I wish I was just ‘shitting you,’ but I’m not! We are stuck in the past with no means of getting out!”

“C’mon, it can’t be that bad, right?” Demyx reasoned. “We just need to start a fire and it’ll work, right?”

“The boy is right!” Vexen put his arm around Demyx’s shoulder. “We just need the right amount of heat, and we’ll be back in the present in no time!” His face paled. “Then again, if it’s a heat by year quotient, and Axel’s fire took us back thousands of years, then we’d need a fire just as strong as that.”

They thought in a deep, pensive silence.

Larxene was the first to have an idea. “How about a forest fire?”

“You psychopath!” Vexen lashed out. “That…could work.” He turned to Demyx. “Quickly! Get some firewood!”

“But what about the animals and stuff?” Demyx countered. “They don’t deserve to die!”

“And we don’t deserve to die in a prehistoric wasteland but here we are!”

“But aren’t there time travel rules? Like, what if we kill something and we forever alter the course of history?”

“No, no. I don’t think that’s how it works. You see, in our timeline, this was already meant to happen, which means the timeline will unfold regardless of what we do here.”

“So it doesn’t matter what we do here?”

“I suppose it matters, Demyx. The point is…”

“Will you two SHUT UP?!” Larxene interrupted the lovers’ spat, placing herself between them. “We are starting a forest fire and that’s that!”

“No!” Demyx protested. “I refuse.”

“Oh, what is this hippie nonsense?” Vexen demanded.

“I’m serious. Like, look. Look at how cute those guys are.” Demyx pointed to the canopy, where a family of lemurs was perched, looking down on them. “Do you really want to kill them?”

“It depends,” Larxene considered. “If they’re good to eat…”

“Look, Demyx,” Vexen lectured his colleague. “There’s no room for this sentimentality in the Organization. How you have any left in you is a study for another day.” Tightly grasping the gummi, he explained slowly, “The reality is we need to heat this up, otherwise we’ll be trapped here forever. Do you want that?”

“I guess not,” Demyx admitted.

“Good. Then let’s get starOHHHH MERICIFUL HADES!” In an instant, the family of lemurs attacked Vexen, crawling over his body and clawing him. “OHHHH GOD! HELP ME!”

Larxene and Demyx stood in speechless horror as Vexen was assaulted by these primitive apes. Finally, Demyx snapped out of it. “I get it! I think they think that gummi is a fruit, like a mango or something…I think.”

Vexen slapped a lemur off of him, crying in pain. “Is that what this is?! Hm?!” He shed the lemurs off him once and for all, leaving the scientist a lacerated mess. “You will not steal this from me, you hear me?! I am _man_ , and you are nothing but primitive _animals_!” The lemurs crawled back, seemingly intimidated. “Aha! You fear me! As you should!” He raised the gummi high above his head to further frighten the animals. “Here, I am a GOD!”

A pterodactyl suddenly snatched the gummi, Vexen with it. He shrieked to match the occasion.

Larxene and Demyx stood in shock for a solid thirty seconds.

“Well,” Larxene spoke up. “He’s gone.”

“It’s not too late!” Demyx replied. “C’mon!” They gave chase after the pterodactyl, which was flying over the green plains ahead of them, quickly scaling down the cliff.

Meanwhile, high in the sky, Vexen was in combat with the flying reptile. “Unhand me, you beast! Unhand me!”

“Vexen!” Demyx called after him. “Hang on!”

“Get me off this crazy thing!” Vexen screamed. But it was to no avail, as his cloak tore and he fell to the ground far beneath him.

***

“What do we do?” Zexion panicked, hands wringing through his hair. “What do we do what do we do what do we do?”

“Oh my God. I vaporized them,” Axel said in disbelief. “Huh. I guess I should have asked what this was about before lighting anything on fire. Oops.”

“Oops?” Zexion pivoted on his feet, dismayed. “That’s all you can come up with? ‘Oops’? We just killed three coworkers and that’s an ‘oopsy’?”

“To an extent, yeah. I guess it is.”

“Oh God, oh God, oh God. I _warned_ him, y’know. I _warned_ him not to do this and he didn’t listen.”

“Calm down, Zexion. We’ll figure this out. Let me just think,” Axel tried to search his brain for answers. “We just need to cover this up, that’s all.”

“Cover what up?”

Zexion and Axel yelped at the sight of Lexaeus in the doorway.

“Oh. Lexaeus,” Zexion cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “How are you doing?”

“Fine. Heard some ruckus. Thought I’d check it out.”

“Oh, it’s just Zexion and I having one of our trademark arguments,” Axel assured the giant.

“About what?”

“Kantian philosophy,” Zexion blurted out. Axel slowly turned to Zexion with a look that read of disgust, offense, and anger.

“I see,” Lexaeus nodded. “Do you know where Vexen is?”

“Vexen?” Axel’s voice cracked, so he erupted into a fit of coughing.

Zexion picked up the slack. “I don’t know. We went here to discuss Kant b-because Vexen’s got a lot of books here and Axel…well, you know Axel. We disagreed and he scorched the whole room.”

“Hence the smoke,” Axel pitched in. “I don’t know what it is, but Cant really steams me.”

“Kant.”

“Kant.”

Lexaeus looked from one suspicious figure to the other. “So you’re covering up…arson.”

“Yep!” Axel said. “You know what the penalty is for that. Two days of community service. And I’ve done my time if you know what I’m saying.”

Lexaeus remained silent. Zexion did his best to hide his shaking leg or rapid breathing. He prayed desperately that he’d take the bait.

“So you don’t know where Vexen is?”

“Nope!” Axel said, though Zexion’s curiosity got the best of him. “Why do you ask?” Axel stared daggers at Zexion.

“Vexen’s suspended from all Organization activity,” Lexaeus clarified. “He can’t leave the castle grounds. If he were to leave, it’d be treason and possibly, depending on his intentions, desertion.”

“Oh. And what’s the penalty for desertion?” Axel asked, laughing nervously. “A _three_ week suspension? Ha ha. Ha. Ha.” He swallowed.

“Death.”

“Oh,” Axel nodded. “Well, he’s around here somewhere. Keep looking, Five.”

“I will,” Lexaeus turned to leave before adding, “Need I remind you the penalty for being the accomplice to desertion?”

Zexion wiped some sweat from his brow, feeling a bit dizzy from his nerves. “It’s not community service, is it?”

“It’s also death. Have a good day.” And with that, Lexaeus left the room.

Once he did, a burden was lifted off both of their chests, Axel steadying himself on the bed and Zexion staggering back against the bookcase.

“We’re dead,” Axel gasped out. “We lost Vexen.”

“No. We killed him.”

“And two other people.”

“Oh God.”

“Oh God.”

Then, with a beautiful fortune, an idea came to Zexion. “Wait! I have an idea!”

***

Vexen struggled to wake up. Everything was blurry. Nothing seemed real. All he could make out was a figure, silhouetted in the sunlight. No…it couldn’t be.

“Holy crap! Larxene, he’s alive!”

It wasn’t.

“Oh. Dammit.” Vexen wasn’t fully conscious, though he could see Larxene handing the boy some munny, perhaps out of some perverse bet.

“I’m alive,” Vexen slurred. “I’m alive.” He gingerly got to his feet with the help of his comrades. “What happened?”

“That dino-bird picked you up and flew you around for like, a mile. And we chased you, and you kept screaming, and we kept chasing, and then it let you go or you let it go, I dunno. And you fell and we came here…” A lemur leaped onto Demyx’s head, shrieking, prompting Vexen to do the same. “Oh, and this guy came along for the ride and he’s seems pretty cool.”

“I’m the Love Monkey!” The creature shrieked.

“Good God,” Vexen cried in horror. “It talks.”

“Oh yeah, it talks,” Demyx nonchalantly added. “It keeps saying that same thing, though. I haven’t thought too much about it.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Vexen replied, cracking his back.

“I’m the Love Monkey!”

“We know!” Vexen screamed at the animal.

“I tried to kill it,” Larxene assured Vexen. “But Demyx wouldn’t let me.”

“You’re a bunch of children, you know that?!” Vexen rotated his shoulder to see if it still worked right. “Bickering and fighting over stupid matters such as ape-murder.” He paused. “You should have killed it.”

“That doesn’t matter now!” Larxene changed the subject. “What about the…the thing?”

Vexen narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what she meant. “You mean the gummi?”

“I’m _not_ saying that.”

“Coward. Don’t worry. It’s right…” Vexen patted his cloak but much to his surprise, the gummi was in none of his many zippers. “Oh. Oh no.”

“What? What is it?”

“The filthy bird. He stole it! Right from my grasp!”

Demyx stroked his chin. “Hm. She might have been mistaken the gummi…for an egg.”

“Oh, just like the lemurs mistook the gummi for a mango, is that it?”

The lemur jumped on Demyx’s head not once, not twice, but thrice, pointing excitedly behind Vexen. “I’m the Love Monkey!”

Demyx looked at where the Love Monkey was pointing. “See? She’s at that nest over there!”

Vexen turned around and saw the Love Monkey was indeed right. “That’s the beast, alright. We must hurry, before they eat the gummi or…or…” He wiped some sweat, coated on his forehead. “It’s getting pretty hot.”

“Yeah,” Larxene wiped her brow as well. “That’s weird.”

“And look!” Demyx pointed at the sky. “’The sun’s getting all red.”

“The sun’s getting all…by God!” Vexen turned to his colleagues. “I know when we are!”

“We get it! Dinosaur times!” Larxene said, exasperated.

“Yes, but the _specific_ dinosaur time!” Vexen said frantically. “This is the Cretaceous Era. Worse so, it’s the _end_ of the Cretaceous Era! Which means soon, very soon, a massive bolide will descend from the heavens.”

“Bo-what?” Demyx asked, confused.

“A meteor. A ginormous meteor. It’ll crash down onto the planet and eliminate nearly every living thing here, very likely including us!”

“Oh, just our luck,” Larxene buried her face in her hands.

“What’s worse, I don’t know how much heat that gummi can take before it vanishes into another time period, leaving us to die here!”

“Oh, how can get this any worse?” Demyx lamented.

“I’m the Love Monkey!”

“What is it, Love Monkey?” The musician asked, concerned.

“I’m the Love Monkey!” He pointed towards the horizon, where there was a creature, charging at them from the distance. A very large creature, in fact. So large, it might actually truly be…

“A tyrannosaurus rex!” Vexen yelped, white as a ghost. “Runnnnnnnnnnn!”

And so the trio ran towards the pterodactyl nest with the time crunches of time crunches on their backs, not to mention the gangster of all dinosaurs. How will they get out of this one?

“I'm the Love Monkey!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember only one line from the movie Dinosaur. You can guess which one.


	4. The Struggle

Members of Organization XIII are of a unique breed. Their very existence—or nonexistence—defies reality. They shouldn’t be but are. On top of this, they are some of most skilled beings in the universe, their powers ranging from strength to intellect to agility.

These skills don’t seem to matter when confronted with a tyrannosaurus rex.

“It’s no use!” Larxene panted alongside Vexen, Demyx, and the Love Monkey. “We can’t outrun it.”

“Well, we can’t fight it!” Vexen argued.

“Watch me.” Larxene combat rolled backwards, did a rather impressive flip into the air, and kicked the T-rex in the eye. Once landing on the ground, she began to stab the dinosaur in the leg repeatedly. “Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die. Die. Die. Die. Die…die…die…” She looked up and much to her horror, found that the T-rex was unfazed by her efforts.

The T-rex slapped Larxene out of the way.

“Holy crap!” Demyx cried, running to where Larxene fell. The T-rex, in a world more favorable to Vexen, would have pursued Demyx and Larxene. However, this is not that world.

“Stand back, you fiend!” Vexen took out his shield. “Prepare to feel my wrath! Huahh!” He flicked his wrist, attempting a barrage of icicles to attack the reptile. Nothing happened. “Damn this heat! Demyx!”

“No dice on my end!” Demyx yelled back as he helped Larxene back to her feet. “It’s too hot for any of my magic. And Larxene’s injured!”

“Dammmit, dammit!” Vexen stepped back slowly, bracing himself for death. He had a number of regrets. Conducting this experiment on the gummi, finding the gummi, losing his presenting pen—all of them flashed before his eyes when suddenly…

“Love Monkey, don’t!” But Demyx was too late, as the Love Monkey climbed onto the T-rex’s back, digging his tiny lemur fingers into its ear holes. The dinosaur swayed left, then right, the Love Monkey riding the creature like a bucking bronco.

“What is that rodent doing?” Larxene asked, stunned by what she witnessed.

“I can’t believe it but…he seems to be controlling the T-rex’s mind!” Vexen explained, awe-struck. “He’s reaching into the dinosaur’s skull and manipulating its nervous system, making it answer its every beck and call!”

Silence.

“Does that make sense?” Demyx asked.

But it was too late for an explanation! The Love Monkey conquered the mighty T-Rex, striking a brilliant silhouette in the red sunset. The beast was tamed!

“I think we found our ride,” Demyx concluded. “Let’s go!”

“Ride that animal? Are you mad?” Vexen protested.

“It’s our only option,” Larxene agreed with Demyx, much to everyone’s surprise. “God knows how much time we wasted with those shenanigans.”

As Demyx and Larxene mounted the mighty beast, Vexen sighed. This truly was a land before reason. He climbed up on the T-rex. Behind him was Demyx and Larxene, and in front of him, a lemur on a mission.

“I’m the Love Monkey!”

“That you are!” Vexen encouraged the animal. “To the nest! Now!”

The lemur rode the T-rex to cliffside, where a treacherous climb and even more treacherous beasts were awaiting them.

***

“So…this is where the magic happens?”

Axel followed Zexion into the lab, unimpressed by his bland surroundings.

“Yes,” Zexion replied, closing the door behind them. “It’s not much but it would be better if more of the budget was allocated…”

“…to the research division. I know. You guys bring it up at every meeting. We get it. Woe is you.”

Zexion glared at Axel. “You realize I’m only tolerating you because we can both be incriminated for murder. This alliance is only temporary.” He approached the vault at the end of the room and began to enter a four-digit code onto a keypad.

“I’m with you, bookworm,” Axel agreed, stretching his arms, sarcastically adding, “Believe it or not, life with you is too exciting. I don’t know how you manage.”

The vault clicked open. “I cope.” The duo entered the passage, where a cold gust of wind swept by.

“Geez!” Axel shivered. “Is the cold for a science reason or just personal preference?”

“A little bit of both,” Zexion replied. “Helps preserve our replicas while keeping nosy folks like you out. Let’s see. They should be somewhere…aha!” He stopped at a bin labelled No. 4. “The other two should be further down the freezer. Get them out. Quickly!”

“Whatever you say, ‘boss.’”

In due time, three bins were dragged out of the vault. “Now, these aren’t exactly perfect.” Zexion explained as he closed the vault’s steel door. “If you guys were patient enough during yesterday’s demonstration, you’d see we have the looks down. But the mental side? Could use a little bit of work.”

“Eh.” Axel shrugged. “That pins down most of us.”

“The reason I’m bringing this up is I don’t know how long this scheme will last.” Zexion opened the bin labelled No. 4 and dragged out a replica of Vexen. “We only programmed three phrases into each of these. Ideally, they’ll learn more in the field when they ingest a greater vocabulary but for now, it’s just three.”

“Oh? Let’s hear them.”

“Alright,” Zexion turned to Vexen’s limp lookalike. “Vexen, activate.”

Nothing happened.

“Activate, Vexen.”

Again, nothing.

“You sure you’re doing it right?” Axel asked.

“I _know_ I’m doing it right,” Zexion snapped. “Vexen, activate.”

Nothing. Curiously, Axel flicked the replica on the head.

“FREEZE!”

“Argh!” Axel and Zexion cried in shock. The replica was alive!

“Magic touch,” Axel congratulated himself.

“So ‘freeze’ is his battle speak,” Zexion clarified. “He also says, ‘Hello.’ Say hello, Axel.”

“Um…hello.”

“HELLO.”

“Huh. That’s pretty cool.”

“And finally,” Zexion concluded, “You have the default dialogue.” He faced the replica. “How are you doing, Vexen?”

“DAMN IT ALL!”

“Pretty convincing,” Axel gave credit where credit was due. “This could work.” The two smirked at each other, proud of their scheming.

“C’mon. Let’s get Replexen dressed up and ready to go,” Zexion moved toward the lab’s closet containing the Organization’s signature coats. “Before Lexaeus and the others notice something’s up.”

***

Transportation via T-rex was a surprisingly efficient way of getting around. The cliffside that hosted the nest wasn’t too far off in the distance now.

Considering the group was silent for some time, and Demyx never really cared for silence, the sitarist spoke up. “So…Vexen. If you weren’t trying to find Marluxia’s missing roses…why _did_ you experiment on that gummi?”

“Science.” Vexen answered curtly. “Science for science’s sake.”

“Really? Is that it?”

“Yes, that’s it!”

“I’m the Love Monkey!” The Love Monkey sang, perched on the skull of the tyrannosaurus rex.

Larxene wagged her finger. “The rodent has a point. That’s not the reason.”

“Oh, you don’t know what the Love Monkey is saying, Larxene!” Vexen scoffed. “Don’t pretend.”

“I’m the _Love_ Monkey!”

“SHUT UP!”

“Regardless,” Larxene continued, “That’s not why you did this. You just felt emasculated after everyone called your nonsense out yesterday and you had to tinker with a magic moonrock to make yourself feel useful.”

“That’s not what this is!”

“I detect a mid-life-crisis,” Larxene teased in sing-song fashion.

“What else will you have me do?” Vexen snapped, crossing his arms and pouting. “Stare at a wall for two weeks until my suspension was up?”

“Considering we wouldn’t be here riding the back of T-rex before the prehistoric apocalypse if you did…” Larxene paused to think. “Yeah. I think I’d prefer the wall-staring.”

Demyx scratched his temple, trying to figure this out. “So you did this because you were embarrassed.”

“If it will please the court, yes!” Vexen admitted. “I was embarrassed. What a surprise that a failed pitch meeting is made worse when you have over half-a-dozen of your peers staring down at you from their silly highchairs.”

“My chair isn’t that high…” Demyx said sheepishly.

“IT’S HIGH ENOUGH!”

“Ohhhhhh,” Larxene nodded, as if getting the full picture. “I see. This is an _inferiority complex_. You feel like no one respects you.”

“People respect me plenty.”

“If they did, they would have accepted your idea, like, a year ago.”

Vexen opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. He merely scoffed and turned the other way.

Demyx patted the academic on the back. “It’s alright, Vexen. No one respects me either and I’m fine.”

“Yeah, Vexen,” Larxene chirped in. “You, a man well into your 40s, should follow the example of this derpy teenager. The dividends will surely pay off.”

“I’m serious,” Demyx said, readjusting himself on the T-rex’s spine. “Everybody assumes I won’t do any work and that hurts.”

“But you _don’t_ do any work!”

“Because people keep assuming I don’t! It’s called negative reinforcement!” Demyx said, pointing to his head. “Remember it.”

“That’s…that’s Axel’s thing.”

“What?”

“’Remember it.’ That’s Axel’s thing, but reskinned and bootlegged. You even pointed to your head like a dingus.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My brand is my brand.”

“Your… _what?!_ ”

“QUIET! BOTH OF YOU!” Vexen exploded, red in the face as he turned to face his backseat drivers. “IF I HEAR ONE MORE PEEP OUT OF _ANY_ OF YOU, I WILL STOP THIS DINOSAUR RIGHT NOW AND WE’LL BE AT THE MERCY OF THE MOST CATASTROPHIC BOLIDE IN HISTORY, AFTER WHICH _NO ONE WILL SAY A THING! EVER!_ ” He panted, exhausted by his own outrage, before hissing, “Do I make myself clear?”

The two youths sat, dumbstruck by Vexen’s wrath. Even the T-rex turned slightly for a moment to discover what this ruckus was about.

“I’m the Love Monkey!”

“Thank you!” Vexen thanked the Love Monkey, and the group was quiet for the rest of the ride.

***

Zexion and Axel had dressed Replexen in the proper Organization cloak, propping him up against a hallway wall.

“Alright. He’s ready,” Zexion assessed, dusting some lint off Replexen’s shoulder. “We just need to show him to Lexaeus and we’re good. For today, at least.”

“Whatever gets him off our backs,” Axel replied. “I could tolerate most of you creeps but that guy…he just doesn’t talk. And when he does, it’s all intimidating and shit. Like he can squeeze the life out of us with just a clench of his fist. Doesn’t that just… _terrify_ you?”

“Everyday but I reasoned a long time ago that we were rooming with psychopaths and weirdos. You included.”

“Understandable.”

“OK, here we go.” Zexion whispered to Replexen, “Knock him out, tiger.” With a push, Replexen was propelled in the direction of Lexaeus’s room. New to walking, he admittedly had a gauntly step, throwing himself from wall to wall with no clear sense of direction.

“That’s OK,” Axel reasoned. “We can just say he drowned his sorrows. That’s a likely…”

“It’s a likely story, yeah.” Zexion clarified, his voice laden with remorse.

Replexen eventually got to Lexaeus’s door, greeting, “HELLO.”

Lexaeus was on his bed, staring at the wall, as he usually did this time of day. “Ah. Vexen. I was looking for you.”

“DAMN IT ALL!”

“I know. You’re a hard man to catch, and I don’t dare disturb you in your lab.” Lexaeus nodded. “Well, I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t disobeyed orders. Xemnas instructed me to keep a close eye on you and I can’t afford to let him down. Neither can you.”

Replexen stared blankly into the void.

“Well…have a good day.” Lexaeus turned to leave when Replexen had another thing to add to the conversation.

“FREEZE!”

Lexaeus turned, curious as to what more Replexen had to say. Around the corner, Zexion and Axel held their breath, confident the gig was up.

“Yes, Vexen?” Lexaeus said expectedly.

Replexen was quiet. “DAMN IT ALL!”

“Ah. Forgot what you have to say,” Lexaeus nodded. “I know the feeling.” He waited for Replexen to leave. “Goodbye now.” Replexen remained still. Lexaeus, having no patience for this, closed the door in Replexen’s face ever so slightly. Little did Lexaeus know that slight movement brushed Replexen just enough, pushing him back on his heels and onto his back, crashing on the floor.

Zexion and Axel hurried to Replexen’s side, scared that their own Replexen was down and out.

“Vexen! Come on! Say something! Anything!” Zexion begged, cradling Replexen’s head.

A thick silence, before Replexen finally spoke. “ARGH! MY SKULL!”

“Huh,” Zexion said, mildly surprised. “Guess he had _four_ phrases.”

“This is great!” Axel cheered, helping Replexen to his feet. “Now we just need to boot up the others and our cover is set!”

“Yeah!” Zexion agreed, before realizing, “Hey, didn’t you have three missions in Agrabah today?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Eh. They can wait. Everything’s probably alright.”

\---

MEANWHILE, IN THE DESERT CITY OF AGRABAH

A blazing inferno, teeming with darkness! Heartless warriors pillage the slums and burn the estates! Gargantuan beasts never before seen in the realm of light torment the citizens of Agrabah! EVERYTHING IS RUINED!

\---

Axel thought for a second more. “Yeah, it’s good. C’mon!”

Zexion and Axel hurried back to the lab where the other replicas were waiting, Replexen walking zanily behind them.

***

At last, the T-rex had made it to the cliffside. Vexen and the gang dismounted the beast, and observed their final task, the giant dinosaur running into the sunset.

“Alright. The nest is up there.” Vexen nodded in anticipation. “Well?! Woman! Climb that wall!”

“What?!” Larxene shouted, repulsed. “Why me?”

“You’re the ninja or nymph or whatever you are! It should be no problem for you!”

“I got slapped by a tyrannosaurus rex not even twenty minutes ago! I’m hurt!”

“So am I! Unless you happened to forget, I was dropped by a pterodactyl from a hundred feet in the air, at least!”

“Guys, we can resolve this,” Demyx played the mediator. “I’ll go.”

“I’m not trusting you to not get eaten,” Larxene snapped.

“Alright,” Demyx understood. “What about you, Love Monkey?”

“I’m the Love Monkey!”

“What do you mean you’re afraid of heights?” Demyx inquired, offended. “What kind of lemur are you?”

“LOOK! The bolide!” Vexen cried. “It’s coming!” The trio looked up, to see a bright spec in the sky, slowly becoming larger and larger. “We must hurry!” He turned to Demyx. “As in you, boy!”

“No!”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Larxene asked incredulously. “You were volunteering five seconds ago!”

“I can’t do it now with the bovine right there! I always fail when people expect things out of me!”

Vexen grabbed Demyx by the shoulder and shook him like a rag doll. “I expect nothing, Demyx! I expect nothing out of you! You want to know why?”

“Why?” Demyx feebly whimpered. He was breathing heavily, fighting back…tears? Or maybe some pathetic facsimile? Perhaps somethings _and_ nothings feared oblivion. So when perched on that brink of despair, a primal fear embedded in all beings awakens, whether they have emotions or not.

“Because…” Vexen grabbed the collar of Demyx’s coat. “WE’RE PROBABLY GOING TO DIE ANYWAY!”

Larxene scoffed. “Oh, that’ll help, Vexen. That’ll really, really help.”

Vexen ignored her. “We’re going to die, Demyx! Whether it’s the bolide, or the dinosaurs, or your low-self-esteem, you will _die_! But let me tell you a death when you try your damnedest to survive is the only death worth dying! DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT, DEMYX! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“W-where did you hear that?” Demyx panted. “Did you come up with that?”

“I…I don’t know where it came from, Demyx!” Vexen clutched Demyx’s coat tighter. “I don’t know! I just know it’s the truth! Can you do it?”

Demyx was quiet for some time. “Yes. I can do it.”

Vexen sighed and let go of Demyx’s coat. “Good luck.”

Demyx nodded, the Love Monkey clutching his shoulder tightly. “Don’t worry, Love Monkey. You don’t have to go with me if you’re scared.” He tossed the animal to Larxene. “Take care of him, will you, Larxene?”

“Um…sure, sport,” Larxene caught the Love Monkey, who quickly took shelter in her shoulder.

With that, Demyx began his ascent, leaving Larxene and Vexen on the ground below.

“So…” Larxene asked Vexen, curious. “Did you have that speech rehearsed orrrrrr…”

“I’m not sure,” Vexen admitted. “It didn’t even feel like it was me talking. I was taken over! Perhaps by a sudden will to live I’ve never possessed in all my years when I was alive. When I had taken life for granted. Maybe, at the heart of all of us, even us being those who do not possess hearts, we all want to live. Yes. I want to live!” Vexen threw his hands in the air. “I WANT TO LIV…”

A pterodactyl snatched Vexen from the air, prompting him to shriek just as he did before.

“Holy shit!” Larxene cried in surprise. Looking the at the Love Monkey, she reasoned, “So it’s just us, huh?”

The Love Monkey stared blankly back at her.

“Welp,” Larxene sighed. “If there’s any way to go, this is it. Holding a stinking animal while a meteor demolishes you. I’m a lucky gal.”

***

“Let me go, damn you! Let me go!” Vexen begged the monster. The pterodactyl reared its head towards its prey, screeching. “It _is_ you!” Vexen recognized the animal at once. With a fierce passion, Vexen began to strike the dinosaur. “I. Want. My. GUMMI BLOCK!”

The pterodactyl dropped Vexen in the nest with a painful thud. “Argh…my…skull.” Vexen sat up, groaning, only to find himself surround by eggs! “I’m here!” He shook his fist at the flying ingrate. “Ha! You fool! You _saved_ me!” Vexen proceeded to dig through the nest, desperately searching for the gummi block, until finally…

“Aha! There you are!” Vexen held the gummi close to his chest. “The boy was right! She _did_ mistake it for an egg!” Wanting to enjoy his victory, he shouted up at the dinosaur. “Pity you won’t survive to see evolution, you _whore_!” Vexen laughed maniacally in the face of this prehistoric death.

Unfortunately, as all joys for Vexen were, his celebration was cut short. For behind him he heard a slight _crack!_ Then another one! And another one! Vexen didn’t want to turn around but he knew he had to eventually. So he turned, slowly, only to find three baby pterodactyls staring right back at him.

“Oh.” Vexen feebly spoke up. “Funny timing, you have. You see, the world as you know it, however b-briefly, is ending. So you’re just entering this world…to die. That’s kind of, er, unfortunate. S-so why don’t you go back to your eggs and close your eyes, hm? Then we can forget this everDEVIL CURSE ME!”

The baby pterodactyls were very hungry for their first feeding as they lunged at Vexen, gnawing at his every limb.

***

Larxene waited anxiously for something to happen. Demyx still had a little less than halfway to go before reaching the top of the cliff, and the bolide was becoming more and more visible. Here she stood, powerless to do anything…

“REEEEEEEEEEE!” The mother pterodactyl flew at breakneck speed in pursuit of Larxene. She dodged the animal well enough, rolling to the side.

“I can’t stop a giant meteor from killing me,” Larxene spoke, the Love Monkey perched on her shoulder. “But an oversized bird like you? I can manage!” She charged the animal with a primal scream, throwing thunderbolt after thunderbolt at the creature.

For Larxene, too, would not go gentle into that good night.

***

“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” Vexen demanded, punching and kicking at the infant monsters.

“HEY!”

Vexen and his assailants turned to find Demyx, standing on the nest’s brim, sitar in hand.

“Get off my _friend_!” Demyx charged the animals, swinging his instrument like a truncheon, knocking the babies out, one after the other.

Vexen sat in awe, impressed by his rescuer’s efforts. “Impressive work, Demyx.”

“It’s no problem,” Demyx panted, exhausted. “How…how did you get up here?”

“That’s a long and painful story.” Vexen shrugged the question off. “The point is, I have the gummi. Now we just need to get Larxene…”

“Yes?”

Vexen and Demyx turned to find Larxene riding the pterodactyl, with none other than the Love Monkey piloting it.

“Well, I’ll be…” Vexen said in awe. “But how…”

“I subdued the animal, the rodent piloted it. Simple as that.”

“Whoa,” Demyx approached his new lemur friend. “Love Monkey, I thought you were afraid of heights.”

“I'm the Love Monkey!”

“Wow!” Demyx cheered, happy for his companion. “Good for you!”

“So what’s the plan now?” Larxene asked, confidently mounted on her pterodactyl.

“We need to expose this gummi to direct heat,” Vexen explained. “It’s a miracle this climate hasn’t activated its censors already, so we can’t wait for _that_ to take effect.”

“What if we start a fire right now?” Demyx suggested.

“No! That’ll take too long!”

“Then _what_ , professor?!” Larxene demanded to know.

Vexen looked up at the incoming bolide. “We fly into the eye of the storm.”

“Huh?” Demyx asked.

“On the pterodactyl! Now!” Vexen lifted Demyx and put him on the back of the flying beast. Vexen followed and planted himself between Larxene and their rodent pilot. “Fly towards the bolide!”

“What?!” Larxene cried, horrified. “You’ll kill us!”

“That’s the strongest heat source there is! It’s that or nothing!” Vexen signaled towards the bolide. “Mush!”

“I’M THE LOVE MONKEY!”

And with that, the group flew higher and higher into the heavens. The Love Monkey was keen on accomplishing his task, a driven and dedicated pilot; Vexen held the gummi block high above all of them as if it were some sacred amulet, praying the censor would activate; Larxene held her head in her hands, ready to face imminent death; Demyx played a rocking tune on his sitar, either meant to be a triumphant song or their final ballad.

The group flew into the fiery inferno and into a flash of radiant light.


	5. The New Normal

Vexen winced as he tried to open his eyes, every part of his body aching. He tried to sit up, but he found it difficult, considering he was bottom-first in an unstable, sinking mass of garbage. The academic tried to shift to his right, only to fall deeper. He panicked, struggling to sit upright. This newfound anxiety felt more familiar with every desperate movement to rise above this refuse. It was so familiar, Vexen felt like he was participating in a reenactment more so than his own drowning via garbage.

Eventually, he grabbed onto the rim of the container he was in and sat up, panting. Vexen surveyed his surroundings. He appeared to be in a grimy alley, specifically in a rusty dumpster. He heard all manner of sounds from the streets—vendors hawking food, cars blaring their horns, dogs barking. This was a queer place. But where was…?

“Ugh…”

Vexen screamed at the figure rising from the garbage next to him, pushing himself against the rim. Fortunately, this was no junk monster. “Larxene! You’re not dead.”

“Great, let’s have a party…” Larxene slurred, noticeably queasy from their flight over here. “Bagels and coffee in the Grey Room?”

“We’re not home yet,” Vexen surmised. “We still appear to be short of the mark. In fact, I think…” He paused. “Where’s Demyx?”

From behind Vexen and Larxene, Demyx rose from the garbage life a vampire from his sarcophagus. “I’m up!” He yelped.

“Saints preserve me!” Vexen cried, turning to face the young Organization member. “You live!”

“I do,” Demyx replied, just as astounded by the observation. He looked at the garbage around them. “Can’t say the same for all of us?” He dug into the trash, pulling out a pterodactyl skull. “Looks like she took the brunt of the bovine.”

“The bolide. Yes,” Vexen clarified, stroking his chin. “But what about…?”

“I’m the Love Monkey!” The Love Monkey jumped from the depths of the refuse and climbed Demyx like a tall tree.

“Love Monkey!” Demyx cheered. “You made it!”

“Against all odds…” Vexen muttered in disbelief.

“Wait a minute,” Larxene interrupted the reunion. “If we bring something from the past into the future, won’t that disrupt the…”

“I don’t know, Larxene,” Vexen replied out of exasperation. “I don’t know. It seems I don’t know anything, really. I don’t even know where we are! Because unless the City That Never Was cut its sanitation budget, we’re not home!”

“But I think I do…” Demyx spoke up, wading out of the dumpster. Brushing himself off, he neared the edge of the alley with his ear out. “Listen!” Vexen followed, though he nearly brained himself on the way down. When he leaned forward with Demyx, he heard some kind of music playing from across the street.

“… _ran/I ran so far away…_ ”

“Huh,” Larxene said, climbing out of the dumpster. “I think I’ve heard you blasting that from your room…”

“Yeah!” Demyx affirmed. “It’s from my interstellar record collection! It’s by Flock of Seagulls!”

“Nonsense, boy!” Vexen shamed the musician. “We’re nowhere near a beach, as far as I can see.”

“No, the band! That’s their 1982 hit, ‘I Ran.”

“I wish you would,” Larxene bitterly interjected, picking a chicken bone from her hair.

Demyx ignored her jibe, and looked at the litter surrounding them, finally settling on a crumpled up newspaper. “Holy crap!”

“What?” Vexen asked, concerned. “What is it?”

“Ronald Reagan is in power…the Berlin Wall is up…all the hair is feathered…” Demyx pointed at the paper’s banner, which read, “The Daily News.” “We’re in New York City. The year…” His finger moved to the date. “1988.”

***

Axel and Zexion entered the Grey Room with Replexen, Replemyx, and Larxica close behind.

“If they can go through lunch unnoticed, we’ll be good,” Zexion told Axel, more so to assure himself than his new cohort.

“Yeah,” Axel agreed. “Long enough for us to get new names and get the hell out of Dodge.”

Zexion tried to think of some optimistic alternative to that but he quickly recalled they were covering up manslaughter, so he instead turned his attention to the replicas. “Alright. Act natural.”

“I DIDN’T ASK FOR YOUR GARBAGE OPINION!” Larxica snapped back with one her trademark phrases.

“DANCE, WATER, DANCE!” Replemyx said one of his catch phrases.

“FREEZE!” cried Replexen.

The three replicas sauntered into the Grey Room awkwardly, each heading in its own direction.

Nervous, Zexion asked Axel, “Do you want to see how this transpires orrrrrr…?”

“I think I’ll start packing my bags.”

“Right with you.”

The two retreated back into the corridors.

\---

Larxica went for the coffee at the buffet table. Robotically, she began pour herself a cup, though her accuracy could use a little work. As she was pouring, Marluxia joined her.

“Hello, Larxene.”

“HEY, FUCKFACE.” Larxica gave her default greeting.

“Well,” Marluxia replied, taken aback. “That was uncalled for but expected.”

“HA HA. HA HA. HA. HA.”

“Typical for you, I suppose.” Marluxia regained his composure. “I wanted to talk about that idea I mentioned after yesterday’s meeting. I was wondering if you made up your mind on the…” He did a double-take before leaning in to whisper. “…coup.”

“I DIDN’T ASK FOR YOUR GARBAGE OPINION!”

“Excuse me?!” Marluxia scoffed, revolted.

“HA HA. HA HA. HA. HA.”

“But…you said you’d think about it!”

“HEY, FUCKFACE.”

“What?”

“I DIDN’T ASK FOR YOUR GARBAGE OPINION!”

“Oh, that is it!” Marluxia tossed his hair with a fury he rarely evoked. “Just wait when the coup does come. You’ll be the first to go!” He then hissed right into her ear, “And that might be sooner than you think.”

He stormed off with a flourish, leaving Larxene with an overflowing cup of coffee.

“HA HA. HA HA. HA. HA.”

\---

“Ah, Demyx,” Luxord greeted Replemyx from the couch.

“WAZZUP?!” Replemyx responded with his default greeting.

“Are you up for a game?” The gambler gestured to his Connect Four set. “It’ll be a while yet until I have to venture off to Wonderland.”

“ROCK ON, MY DUDE!”

“Very good then,” Luxord crossed his arms with a smile. “Take a seat.”

Replemyx froze as he processed the command.

“Uh…” Luxord eyed Replemyx, confused. “Demyx? Are you alright?”

“DANCE, WATER, DANCE!” Replemyx slapped Luxord with a splash of water.

“Argh!” Luxord was stunned by the splash. “What’s the meaning of this?!”

“ROCK ON, MY DUDE!” Replemyx replied before walking away.

“Mark my words, HR will hear about this!” Luxord got to his feet and walked towards the elevator. “Saix will have a field day with you!”

But Replemyx could only compute so much, for he went off into the hallway, unsure of where he was going or what he was doing.

\---

Replexen was staring out the Grey Room’s window when none other than the Superior approached him from behind.

“Vexen,” Xemnas greeted the facsimile of a scientist. “You seem to be taking your suspension well.”

“HELLO.”

“Yes, yes. Hello. Anyway,” Xemnas returned to his point. “I was hoping you’d take a stroll with me around the castle perimeter. I need to inform you of an impending crisis I’ve just discovered, and you’re the only member I can trust with this knowledge.”

“FREEZE!”

“You heard right. This is an intellectual matter, and as much as you’ve fallen short recently, your mind is still of use to me,” the Superior replied, gesturing to the door leading to the castle’s terrace. “Come. Walk with me.”

Xemnas turned and started to walk. Replexen, having processed the Superior’s words as a transport command, followed close behind, unknowingly about to receive dire news the Organization depended on.

***

“So you’re familiar with this time period?” Vexen further interrogated the boy.

“You bet,” Demyx assured the academic. “You know what they say: the best education is a musical one.”

“I’m the Love Monk-ayyyy!” The Love Monkey sang, doing some sort of cha-cha motion on Demyx’s shoulder.

“No one says that!” Larxene argued. “You made that up!”

“Did not!” Demyx protested.

“There’s no way you can know everything about when we are because you listen to a few albums!”

“Vexen knew everything about the dinosaur place because he read some books! I don’t see what’s so different.”

“Enough!” Vexen silenced his colleagues. “The point is you know about this time period, Demyx. So you need to tell us where we can heat this…” He dug in his pocket and took out the gummi. “…that way, we can get out of this vile-smelling hell.”

“Right. Right.” Demyx pondered for a moment. “Let’s see. ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’ won’t come out for another year, so that’s out of the question.”

“I’m the Love Monkey!” The Love Monkey chittered excitedly. “I’m the Love Monkey!”

Demyx looked up to where the Love Monkey was pointing. “That’s it! Down the block, over there!” He pointed to the building on the corner. “Club Ignition! That can be a clue, right?”

“It looks like a seedy bar,” Larxene said, disgusted. “You sure your monkey friend doesn’t want a drink?”

“I’m the Love Monkey!”

“That doesn’t answer my question…”

“But it answers mine,” Vexen nodded. “It’s our best shot. Come on!” He moved to leave the alley before Demyx held him back by his hood.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Demyx pulled Vexen back into the grimy alcove.

“What’s the matter, now?” Vexen demanded to know.

“We can’t just stroll around, looking like… _this_.” Demyx gestured to their black coats. “We have to be dressed like _that_ if we want to blend in.” He pointed to the kids in baggy pants and the girls in shoulder-pads.

“What are you on about?” Vexen snatched Demyx’s hand off his hood. “We always traverse the worlds dressed like this.”

“Yeah, but that’s because those worlds don’t care about _fashion_ ,” Demyx explained to Vexen slowly, as if he were a child. “The first thing you learn about the 1980’s is that it’s a fashion-first decade. What you wear is who you are. If people see us walking around all hooded and stuff, they’ll think we’re drug dealers, o-or communists…”

“But we need these coats to protect us from the darkness,” Larxene said, confused.

“Darkness? In the 1980’s?” Demyx shook his head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. How naïve.”

A man in a hoodie walked by and handed Demyx a flier. “Schafly’s Porn Theater’s got a double feature tonight. Check it out.”

Demyx took the flier and waved farewell to the man, who was already after his next customer. “Thanks, good sir.” He turned back to his comrades. “See? That guy looked at me funny because we looked super-shady. We need new threads, fast!”

“OK, genius,” Larxene wise-cracked. “Where are we gonna get them?”

Demyx was struck with a pensive silence before getting a brilliant idea.

“We can check the trash.”

***

So out of the alleyway came our heroes, dressed in the garb of the era. Vexen was clothed in a red track suit, wearing some chains around his neck that no one appreciated. Atop his head was a Yankees cap with a hole in the brim. To his left was Larxene, dressed in a denim jacket, teal running pants, and combat boots. She wore sunglasses, though one of the lenses was popped out. And in between the two was Demyx, who by far walked with the most swagger among them. Dressed in the baggiest jeans and the puffiest crimson down vest (so puffy, it sufficiently hid the Love Monkey from sight), Demyx led the group with confidence. Surely, they looked good, since everyone was staring at them as they made their way towards Club Ignition.

“I feel so degraded,” Vexen said through gritted teeth.

“I’m starting to miss the dinosaurs,” Larxene lamented.

“Don’t worry, guys!” Demyx consoled his friends. “We are looking _tubular_.”

“I’m the Love Monkey.” The Love Monkey chirped, ever so quietly.

“That’s the spirit.”

The trio entered the club to find a very filthy establishment stinking of…something very, very unpleasant.

“Now I get the Love Monkey’s point,” Larxene nodded. “We should just set the place on fire.”

“It’ll destroy all the bacteria, no doubt,” Vexen hypothesized.

“Let’s ask around before we commit any arson,” Demyx reasoned, taking a seat at the bar. “Hey! Tender!”

An unpleasant-looking gentleman reared his ugly face. “Whaddaya want?”

“Feeling kind of _hot_ here, don’t you think?”

“My AC’s busted. Whaddaya want from me? Jesus Christ…”

“Ah. The AC.” Demyx turned to his comrades and whispered loudly, “That’s a clue.” Turning back to the bartender, he continued, “May we have a look at this ‘AC’?”

The bartender eyed the three of them suspiciously. “What are you, the repair people?”

“Ummmm…”

“Yes!” Vexen spoke up for Demyx. “We are the repair people you speak of. You see, we’re here to study your ‘A-C’.”

“Uh-huh,” the bartender nodded. “You guys came faster than I thought. It’s in the corner. Knock yourselves out.”

“We will,” Demyx assured the stranger. Just as they started for the AC, though, the bartender had some words for Larxene.

“Stay a bit longer, sweety, you can help turn up the heat for our gentleman callers!”

Larxene turned with a fury in her eyes. She stepped forward ready to stab his eyes out when the Love Monkey spoke up.

“I’m the Love Monkey!”

“Whatever you want to call yourself, toots.” The bartender returned to cleaning glasses.

Vexen grabbed Larxene by the arm and pulled her to the AC. “Are you insane?!” He scolded her, trying his best to keep quiet. “Are you _trying_ to break our cover?”

“No, I was trying to break his neck, thank you very much,” Larxene quipped back, steaming mad.

“Can’t you just take it in stride like a sport and move on?”

“Oh, like you do, Vexen? The world’s biggest doormat?”

“I am _not_ a doormat!” Vexen scoffed. “Besides, can’t you see that man was flirting with you? It’s a _compliment_.”

“Of course you’d think that,” Larxene rolled your eyes. “No one’s ever hit on you.”

“Well, I never…”

“Guys!” Demyx placed himself between them. “Let’s focus on lighting this thing up.”

“Lighting what up?”

The trio gasped at the sudden appearance of a fourth individual dressed in a dirty trench coat and worn-out ski-cap. Well, a fourth individual and his dogs. His many, many dogs.

“Um…nothing,” Vexen retorted. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Don’t worry,” the stranger assured them. “I don’t bite. Neither do my friends here.” He pointed to the dogs.

Demyx wasn’t sure what to make of the animals but he felt the Love Monkey urinate down his shirt out of fright.

“Really,” Larxene attempted to convince the man. “It’s nothing, um…”

“Fagin,” he replied with a half-toothed smile. “Don’t worry. I know what you’re doin’.”

The trio looked at each other, confused. “You do?” Demyx asked.

“Yeah.” Fagin reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a transparent bag carrying some leaves. “You want grass, eh? I got a free sample right here.”

“Leave those repair people alone, will ya, Fagin?” The bartender shouted from the counter. “I need the air up and running _now_.”

“Hey, get off my back!” Fagin shouted back. “You know I need the money!” He faced his potential customers. “What do you say?”

“Ummm…” Demyx was at a loss for words.

“Let us confer!” Vexen answered for Demyx, pulling him aside along with Larxene. “We can’t take substances from a shady stranger!” He whispered anxiously.

“Why not?” Demyx countered. “He said light it up. That could be the heat we need to get us out of here.”

“Demyx is right, for once,” Larxene pitched in. “It’s worth a shot, just to see where it gets us.”

“Trust me, Vex. Dinosaurs were your specialty. The 80’s are mine.”

Vexen bit his lip. “Alright then.” He turned back to Fagin. “We will have your grass!”

\---

_TEN MINUTES LATER_

“I-I just don’t under _stand_!” Vexen stammered, struggling for his words. “I work and work and nothing ever comes of it. NOTHING.”

“What are you _talking_ about?” Demyx drawled. “You’re a _scientist_.” He laughed at that for some reason. “Science comes out of it.”

“I wish it were simple as that,” Vexen shook his head. “For what is science without…without…with…out…”

Silence.

“People?” Larxene suggested.

“ _People!_ ” Vexen exclaimed. “Damn people, always…ruining things.” He rested his head against the wall. “That’s our purpose in this life. To ruin people’s lives.”

Demyx adjust his seat. “Nah, Vexen. You got it all wrong. The reason we are is…to _help_?”

“You sound like you need help, alright.” Larxene joked, before laughing at her own joke for an unnecessarily long time.

“I’m serious, Larxene.” Demyx began to cough profusely.

“I’m…the Love…Monkey…” The Love Monkey purred, blazed as the furnaces of hell.

“Yeah, yeah. He gets it!” Demyx paused. “Wait, what did you say?”

“Never mind the lemur, Demyx,” Vexen waved the boy off. “The problem is with me. I’m a failure.”

“Only if you say you are. You see perception…” Demyx waved his hand in fantastical fashion. “…is reality.”

“And I’m very perceptive, boy,” Vexen replied. “It’s my one talent. And from what I’ve observed, I’ve failed at every turn.” He shook his head, looking off into the distance. “You study for years and years, only for you to be laughed at by all your peers. No matter how smart I am, my talents will never be appreciated.”

“Ohhhhh. This is about the Replica thing from yesterday.” Demyx paused. “They weren’t laughing.”

“That’s beside the point. They dismissed me. They always, _always_ dismiss me.”

“Huh,” Larxene nodded, looking off towards nowhere in particular. “Guess we have that in common.”

Vexen and Demyx turned to her, curious.

“What? Surprised that the cranky lady isn’t respected in the cult dominated by emotionless men?” Larxene snarked wearily.

“But…” Demyx spoke up. “You’re emotionless, too.” He turned to Vexen, confused. “That’s the rule, right?”

Vexen shrugged. “I’m not sure. Devil curse me, but in the past 24 hours I’ve felt a terrible mix of frustration, sorrow, and indigestion, so maybe there’s a loophole.”

“As I was saying,” Larxene continued. “No one wants to hear what I have to say. I dare to speak up, and everyone looks at me funny before moving on to the next guy.” She crossed her arms, looking defeated. “I’m just here to fill up a slot. Nothing more.”

Demyx took another hit off his joint. “Nah. That’s me. I don’t even know how I got hired for this gig.” He shook his head somberly. “All they do is yell at me to do work and I try. I-I really, really…OK, I don’t. But there’s a reason.”

“Maybe,” Vexen cleared his throat. “Maybe you don’t try because you know there’s nothing in return for _you_. No one will look at you differently because they have an image of you etched in stone.”

“Yeah,” Larxene seconded Vexen’s hypothesis. “Like how people just expect me to be an irrational, crazy bitch.”

“Oh, no one really believes _that_.” Vexen attempted to console her.

“Xigbar calls me a PMS-crazed whore twice a week.”

“Oh.” Vexen nodded, now fully realizing how terribly Larxene was treated. It must have been strange, being the only woman in a boys’ locker-room. Vexen could somewhat sympathize, being the only genius in the Organization. Then again, he had a protégé in Zexion, and sometimes he wondered if the boy was smarter than him.

Meanwhile, Larxene was always alone.

“You know, woman…I mean…Larxene,” Vexen spoke up after some time. “I don’t think you’re crazy. Not really.”

“Oh, really?”

“No. You’re cunning and quick-witted. A bit hot-blooded, sure, but a lot of us in the Organization can do with a fraction of the passion you have.” Vexen nodded, stunned by his own words. “I guess what I’m trying to say is…I…” He bit his lip and closed his eyes, searching hard for the word. “…respect you.”

Larxene gazed at Vexen out of disbelief. “Well…I respect you, too. Sure, you can be weird and uptight, but your brains got us out of that prehistoric mess, even if they got us into it. You’re a smart guy.”

Vexen, much to his surprise, smiled at this sudden validation. It was strange. In the pit of his stomach, he felt this warm sensation. Something he knew all too well in a past life, he knew it.

“You know,” Demyx chuckled. “This was a neat team-building exercise. Dangerous, yeah. But now, I feel like you guys are…” He thought about what he was gonna say next, which was a rare occasion. “…I feel like you guys are my friends.”

Vexen turned to Demyx, puzzled. “We’re Nobodies. We can’t have ‘friends.’”

“I’m not sure,” Demyx wondered out loud. “Like when we were in that pterodactyl nest…I meant what I said when I called you my friend.” He placed his hand on Vexen’s shoulder, catching the academic’s attention.

Not sure how to react to this, Vexen took his time to answer. “We’re drugged out of our minds, aren’t we?”

Speak of the devil, Fagin returned to the club’s corner with his diverse pack of canines. “How’s that sample? Good, right?”

“Radical,” Demyx replied with a dazed smile.

“Good, good,” Fagin smacked his lips. “So funny thing…you happened to get just _one_ _ounce_ more than the typical sample sooooo…” He extended his palm. “Ya gotta pay full price.”

“But…” Larxene started. “…we don’t have any munny.”

Fagin’s smile faded in an instant. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Sorry,” Vexen got to his feet, though he wasn’t fully lucid. “But we’re broke.”

“Baloney!” Fagin snapped. “How could broke folks afford nice clothes like that?”

“Come to think of it,” the bartender joined the conversation. “Those _are_ high-falutin’ clothes for repair people.”

Demyx whispered to Larxene, “I told you these clothes were good.”

Then, at that fateful moment, three men dressed in grey entered the bar. “We’re here to fix the AC.”

“IMPOSTERS!” The bartender exploded, and promptly pulled a shotgun out from behind the counter.

“SWEET GOD!” Vexen cried in fear.

“I’m the Love Monkey!” The lemur jumped from Demyx’s vest into the rafters, fearing for its life.

“They got a rabid monkey!” Fagin cried, hiding behind his bulldog, now sobbing hysterically.

“Um, did we come at a bad time?” One of the actual repair people asked but he was ignored.

“You ain’t gonna kill me!” the grass-providing bum proclaimed. “I’m gonna get that money, even if its off your dead, chewed-up bodies!” With that, Fagin released his hounds onto the Organization members in disguise.

“You know, I’ve really sat on it,” Demyx spoke up as he backed up against the wall. “I don’t think I like the 80’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Company is a Disney movie starring rock star Billy Joel and actress Bette Midler in 1988 based on Charles Dickens Oliver Twist. I figured that needed explaining.


	6. The Pursuit

In the 1980s, New York was a barbarous battleground brimming with violence and corruption. Nearly ten years before a mummified corpse going by Rudy Giuliani would murder all the homeless, the metropolis was susceptible to the likes of bums and their stray dogs. One bum in particular, Fagin, had a nasty and diverse batch of canines trained to do his bidding. And today, after being cheated of his weed money, Fagin bid his dogs to eliminate Vexen, Larxene, and Demyx, none of whom were properly trained to deal with such vicious animals.

“MERICIFUL MESTOPHELES!” Vexen shrieked as the Great Dane gnawed at his leg. “I yield! I yield!”

“C’mon, old man!” Larxene snapped hurdling over the bulldog. “We can’t give up against a bunch of ACK! BITCH!” The Saluki hopped on her back, knocking her off balance.

“This is insane!” Demyx said as he tiptoed backwards, the Dachshund slowly approaching, growling, and baring his teeth. “You’d figure we’d handle this obstacle easily considering we kill demons for a living. But, man! The 80’s are just brutal!”

Fagin laughed maniacally at the center of this chaos. “You think you could mess with me! Me, a junkie who owes money to various figures of questionable credibility! HA HA HA HA!”

The Love Monkey wasn’t having an easy go of it either. “I’m the Love Monkey!” he shrieked as the chihuahua chased him in the rafters of Club Ignition. Despite being an animal displaced from its own time, the Love Monkey still had to contend with violent savageries not unlike those of his homeland.

The bartender was only adding to the chaos, shooting various shotgun rounds wherever and whenever. Although he was a loyal NRA member, ol’ Louie wasn’t any good with a firearm. He only bought a shotgun to protect his small business and also maybe kind of compensate for his inferior manhood. The AC repairmen were forced to duck behind tables, fearing for their lives.

The bulldog and Dane lunged at Vexen’s nethers, forcing him to step onto a chair, fending off the mangy mutts with his shield. “Back! Back, you filthy animals!”

“I’m the Love Monkey!” The lemur leaped down from rafters and onto Vexen’s shoulders.

“Get off!” Vexen pled. “Seek shelter somewhere elOH GOD!”

The chihuahua lunged right after the Love Monkey, prompting Vexen to raise his shield in defense. The tiny dog hit it with a hollow thud, catching the attention of the other dogs. Everyone froze.

Larxene smirked. “Great. An opening. Hah!” She took a stab at the Saluki, but it handily dodged her attack and bit her wrist. “Ow!”

“Wait!” Demyx shouted before chaos could erupt again. “Vexen, hit your shield again.”

Hesitantly, Vexen tapped his shield. Some of the dogs began to sit, tilting their heads.

“I think I know how to beat them.”

“And how’s that, dingus?” Larxene asked bitterly, rubbing her injured wrist.

“We have to communicate with the only language that transcends all planes of existence.” The musician unveiled his sitar. “The language…of music.”

Vexen narrowed his eyes. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“Just follow my lead!” Demyx ordered, rarely placing himself in the affirmative. “Vexen, you got drums. Larxene, rub your knives together to add a little spice to this dish.”

“Heh?” Larxene cocked her eyebrow, but it was too late.

“1, 2, 3, GO!” Demyx began to passionately strum his sitar, prompting Vexen and Larxene to learn the rhythm as they went. The dogs were now all still, eagerly listening to this strange tune. Even Fagin and Louie were entranced, wondering how their Wednesday turned out like this.

Finally, the first verse was upon them.

“ _Harry Truman, Doris Day, Red China, Johnny Ray/South Pacific, Walter Winchell, Joe DiMaggio…_ ”

Vexen scrunched his face, confused. _These are just a bunch of proper nouns sung in succession. What is he on about?_

But Demyx continued. “ _Joe McCarthy, Richard Nixon, Studebaker, television/North Korea, South Korea, Marylin Monroe…_ ”

Larxene rubbed her knives together, uncertain of what was going on. _These aren’t actual lyrics! They’ll never actually buy this._

“ _Rosenbergs, H-bomb, Sugar Ray, Panmunjom/Brando,_ The King and I _and_ The Catcher in the Rye _…_ ”

Louie clutched his shotgun ponderously. _I read_ The Catcher in the Rye _in school. This song therefore applies to me!_

“ _Eisenhower, vaccine, England’s got a new queen/Marciano, Liberace, Santayana goodbye!_ ”

Fagin scratched his upper lip and reminisced. _I like Liberace. Wait, is he going into a refrain?! HE’S GOING INTO A REFRAIN, HOLY CRAP!_

“ _WE DIDN’T START THE FIRE!_ ” Demyx belted, dancing all around the bar as he played his sitar. “ _IT WAS ALWAYS BURNING/SINCE THE WORLD’S BEEN TURNING! WE DIDN’T START THE FIRE!_ ” He pointed to the Dachshund.

Vexen rolled his eyes. _He can’t really expect it to…_

The Dachshund began to sing. “ _No, we didn’t light it/But we tried to fight it!_ ”

Vexen’s jaw dropped, as did Larxene’s. It turned out music was a universal language, one that dominated Club Ignition in that moment.

Demyx shimmied over to the scientist. “C’mon, Sexy Vexy. Give it a shot!”

“But I-I don’t know the words,” Vexen stammered helplessly, attempting to maintain the rhythm he began on his makeshift drums.

“They’ll come to you. Just let the music into your soul.”

“Oh, that’s pure rubbish and you know _JOSEPH STALIN, MALENKOV, NASSER AND PROKOFIEV/ROCKEFELLER, CAMPANELLA, COMMUNIST BLOC!_ ” But it was too late, for the power of music possessed him.

Demyx grinned. “See? I told you it was easy!”

Vexen couldn’t help but smile in awe at his efforts. He had no time to congratulate himself, though, as he was onto the next lyric. “ _Roy Cohn, Juan Peron, Toscanini, Dacron/Dien Bien Phu falls, ‘Rock Around the Clock’…_ ”

Demyx pointed at, “Larxene!”

“Hey! I was told to rub the knives!” The nymph protested. “You said nothing about singing.” But one look at the snarling bulldog to her left was enough for her to succumb to the power of song as well. “ _Einstein, James Dean, Brooklyn’s got a winning team/Davy Crockett, Peter Pan, Elvis Presley, Disneyland_ …”

“Wait, can we say that last one?” Vexen inquired.

“Who cares?” Demyx shrugged, for who had time to answer such a heavy question as Larxene continued to sing.

“ _Bardot, Budapest, Alabama, Krushchev/Princess Grace,_ Peyton Place _, trouble in the Suez!_ ”

“EVERYBODY!” Demyx called out, prompting all the dogs to start a chorus line and sing…

“ _WE DIDN’T START THE FIRE! IT WAS ALWAYS BURNING/SINCE THE WORLD’S BEEN TURNING. WE DIDN’T START THE FIRE! NO WE DIDN’T LIGHT IT/BUT WE TRIED TO FIGHT IT!_ ”

There was a break in the music as the Love Monkey took centerstage. Since his odd speech impediment prevented him from listing historical events and figures between the 1950’s and 80’s, he lent a welcome compliment to the power of song. And that was dance. Wild and crazy dance.

“Yeah!” Demyx cheered on his new pet. “Feel the burn! 1, 2, 3!” And he continued to sing, the dogs with him, and Fagin, Louie and the AC repairmen watching in shock.

In that moment, all was well with the world.

***

“…and you see, Vexen, only you can activate the castle’s defenses to prepare for this Heartless invasion.” Xemnas concluded his lecture to Replexen as they strolled Naught’s Skyway. “I sense they’ll arrive in a matter of hours, so I’ll need you to be ready. Understand?”

“ARGH!” Replexen replied with one of his programmed phrases. “MY SKULL!”

“It is a heavy burden, I know,” Xemnas assured his colleague. “But you’re the only one who’s familiar with the technology, considering you designed it yourself. Should you fail, your suspension will come to an end...” He raised his arms, looked up the heavens, and menacingly bellowed, “…with your TERMINATION! _”_

“ARGH! MY SKULL!”

“I’ll leave you alone to contemplate your task,” Xemnas left Replexen by the railing, heading back inside. “Good luck, comrade.”

Left alone to his own devices, Replexen had only one thing to say. “DAMN IT ALL!”

***

“ _…and it goes on and on and on and on…_ ”

And slowly, beautifully, ever-so softly, the song came to an end. The dogs were happy, and the day was saved.

“Whew!” Demyx wiped some sweat from his brow before fist-bumping the Dachshund. “You got good range, doggo!”

“Ay, it’s no problem, daddy-o.” The dog proceeded to put on sunglasses and shot Demyx a finger-gun.

“There are countless imponderables the mind can only hope to decipher,” Vexen said from the corner, awestruck. “This is one of them.”

“So,” Larxene held up her hands in defense. “Are we good?”

Fagin stepped forward apologetically. “I’m sorry I tried to kill ya and stuff.”

“Hey, it’s no problem!” Demyx patted the bum on the back.

“No problem?!” Larxene scoffed, offended by the mere suggestion that there was no problem. “Speak for yourself!”

“But it’s cool now because we sang the song,” Demyx replied. “Music has the power to mend all wounds.”

Fagin threw an arm around Demyx’s shoulder. “You got that right.” And so they began to laugh. All of them. Vexen, Larxene, Fagin, Louie, the dogs, the AC repairmen—they all laughed to their heart’s content…

Until Fagan’s head was blown off.

“HOLY SHIT, IT’S THE COPS!” Louie cried, pointing to the sidewalk. “They musta heard the ruckus and thought we was druggin’! SHIT!”

Another gunshot, this time handily deflected by Vexen’s shield. Policemen were lined up outside, shooting up the place.

“Now what do we do?” Demyx shouted out of desperation. Fortunately, music not only mended wounds, but created friendships. The dogs, now allied to the Organization members, charged out of the bar and attacked the cops.

“That’s our move!” Larxene stood up. “C’mon!” She ran out of the club, Vexen stumbling right behind her, and Demyx behind him with the Love Monkey perched on his shoulder.

“Bye, fellas!” Demyx bid farewell to his new canine friends. “Rock on! START THE FIRE!”

“Yes,” Vexen agreed, struggling to keep up with the nimble warrior ahead of him. “We should start one. A _literal_ one, I mean, to activate the gummi and get us out of this cesspit. The question is… _how_?”

***

“So, where are you gonna hide?” Zexion asked Axel, walking down the hallway to their rooms.

“Easy. Deep Jungle,” Axel answered right off the cuff.

“Hm. How so?”

“The Organization doesn’t have the rights to snoop around there.”

“Ah,” Zexion nodded, and was about to give his refuge when suddenly Saix appeared around the corner, prompting the two co-conspirators to gasp.

“Ack! Oh, Saix!” Axel straightened his posture as he greeted his on-and-off best friend. “What’s going on?”

“Interesting question,” Saix replied dryly. “One I’ve been pondering myself, albeit a bit more specifically.”

Zexion scratched his head. “As in…what’s going on…with you?”

“As in what’s going on in _Agrabah_.” Saix turned to the redhead. “You should know, Axel, considering you had three missions there today.”

“Well, I, uh…”

“ _Three missions that you never left to do_ ,” Saix sternly added. “Do you have anything to say in your defense before I subject you to _another_ suspension or _another_ bout of community service? You’ve been racking those up lately, y’know. You’re familiar with our 13-strike system?”

Resigned to his fate, Axel glumly answered, “Yes.”

“Then explain yourself. Now.”

There was silence. Zexion looked between Saix and Axel in nervous anticipation, the tension holding him in a vice.

Finally, Zexion spoke up. “It was my fault. I…”

“…discussed Kantian philosophy with him?” Saix finished for him. “I know. Lexaeus told me. And while he can believe that nonsense, I can’t because I _know_ Axel.” He glared at his old friend. “He barely has tolerance for our meetings. Why should I expect him to have patience for moral absolutes?”

“Because I do!” Zexion blurted, catching the attention of both Axel and Saix. All eyes on him, the young intellectual regained his composure. “You see, I wanted to, uh, educate him. I just don’t really like the way he looks at the world. I-I just don’t see much of a moral code…”

“Gee, thanks,” Axel muttered.

“…so I figured, ‘He needs Kant pronto!’ and so I pulled him aside and kept him here. In the castle. And not on his mission. So it’s my fault. Not his.”

Saix narrowed his eyes. “I see.” He looked from Zexion to Axel and back to Zexion. “Very well then. As long as you leave for Agrabah soon, Axel, I don’t see a problem.” He paused. “Unless Kant has more words…”

“None!” Axel and Zexion replied in unison.

“Uh-huh.” Saix waved them off. “Farewell then.”

With that, Axel and Zexion sped-walked past Xemnas’s righthand-man. “Wow, Zexion. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s no problem,” Zexion answered curtly, brushing some hair from his face. “You’d do the same for me, no?”

“Uh…yeah,” Axel replied hesitantly, as if his mind were somewhere else. “Since we’re in this together. Course I would.”

“Then it’s no problem,” Zexion answered with a faint smile. “C’mon. You got a jungle cruise to prepare for.”

“Yeah,” Axel said with a grin. “I got a bunch of bug spray to pack and maybe some sunscreen. Believe it or not, I burn pretty easily.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, really. It’s a real pain in…”

\---

“That ASS!” Saix turned to find a peeved Luxord heading his way. “No. 7? A word, please?”

“What’s the matter, Luxord?” the Lunar Diviner inquired dryly. “Is your Clue set incomplete again?”

“Worse. Demyx attacked me.”

Saix cocked his eyebrow. “Demyx? _Him?_ ”

“Unprovoked, he splashed some of his water in my face,” Luxord complained. “All I did was ask him to a game of Connect Four.”

“Hm. That’s not like him.” Saix stroked his chin. “Something’s afoot here, Luxord. And I don’t like it.”

***

“Oh, man, they’re still after us!” Demyx yelped, trying to keep pace with Vexen and Larxene.

“Damn it all!” Vexen cursed. “We need a fire to heat this gummi up fast!”

“Don’t suppose any meteors are gonna fall from the sky,” Larxene reared her head towards Demyx. “Or is that not an 80’s thing?”

“I dunno! I just know the music!” A bullet flew past Demyx’s ear, prompting the Love Monkey to scream, “I’m the Love Monkey!”

“We don’t need something as big as that!” Vexen explained, ducking another bullet. “We’re probably closer to our time period, so the heat doesn’t have to be spectacular. Doesn’t have to be a fire. It could be kinetic energy, maybe a bolt of your lighting…” He looked towards Larxene. “…we would need a proper lightning rod, though. And even then, I’m not sure…” It was then he felt a rumbling underneath his feet, causing him to stop.

“What is it?!” Larxene halted, wondering what the hold-up was.

“There’s a force right beneath us!” Vexen explained. “A heavy force moving at breakneck speed.” He noted some stairs leading underground. “Over there! Quickly!”

And so the trio ran down those stairs, hoping to escape the wretched hellhole that was New York City.

***

Larxica entered Larxene’s room, clumsily pushing the door open and making her way in. Step after clunky step, she entered her duplicate’s sanctuary.

Little did she know that this sanctuary was invaded by a certain pink-haired rogue who was hiding behind the door.

“Hyahh!” With one deft swing of his scythe, Marluxia beheaded Larxica, sending her head flying into the air.

“HEY…FUCK…FACE…” were her final words as the life faded from her eyes.

“Sorry, Larxene. Only a charmed circle is supposed to know about the coup. You lost your chance.” Marlxuia picked up the replica’s head, eying it closely. Sparks flew from her severed neck. “Odd. Though I’d say the sparks are in character, those are…circuits?” He furrowed his brow, puzzled. “A robot?” His eyes widened as his mind went to the next logical conclusion.

“A _replica_.”

***

“ _Stand clear of the closing doors please._ ”

“Aha!” Vexen cheered as they reached the subway platform. “Trains! Just like in Twilight Town, only dirtier and in much worse condition.”

“OK. So?” Larxene demanded to know what this had to do with their escape, considering the cops were on their tail.

“These train tracks should have a third rail, just like the ones in Twilight Town,” Vexen frantically explained, pushing through the crowd, and leading his comrades to the edge of the platform. “If you electrify it with enough power, that should be the lightning rod we need to generate the gummi’s heat!”

“Cool!” Demyx nodded, though not fully understanding. “So where do we go?”

“On the train tracks!” Vexen jumped off the platform. “Quickly! Before the next train arrives!”

“I’m the Love Monkey!” The Love Monkey quivered with fear.

“The Love Monkey’s right,” Demyx agreed with his pet. “I dunno if we should…”

“Freeze, punks!” The cops called from behind.

“Get over it,” Larxene snapped, jumping onto the track and after Vexen. Demyx gulped and did the same.

“Let’s do it here!” Vexen stopped, gesturing at one of the metal tracks. “Quickly, before…”

“I’M THE LOVE MONKEY!”

Everyone looked up to see what the lemur was pointing at, only to find the C train charging towards them. Fortunately, it was just in time for them to hug the wall.

“Holy crap,” Demyx panted, fingers digging deep into the dirty cement behind him.

“Larxene,” Vexen fumbled for the gummi in his track suit. “Blast that rail! Now!”

Larxene didn’t hesitate. With a cry, she zapped a bolt at the third rail, prompting a flurry of sparks to fly in the air…and not much besides that.

“What the hell?!” The savage nymph cried in despair. “Why didn’t that work?!”

“It wasn’t hot enough!” Vexen hastily dissected the situation. “We need more heat.” He looked down the tunnel. “Kinetic energy from the trains! That’s it!” The scientist turned to his fellow outlaws. “We wait until a train is a close to us as possible. Then, adding the bolt to that kinetic energy, we should have enough heat to get us out of here!”

“So we just wait for a train to hit us?!”

“NO! Right before it hits us!”

“That’s insane!”

A series of bullets zinged past them.

“Would you rather _they_ kill us?!” Vexen took out his shield. “Come on! We must hold our ground until the next train comes.”

Larxene threw a few lightning bolts at the cops. “Hey, Maestro!” She snapped at Demyx. “Why can’t you cook up a song for _these_ guys?”

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Demyx cried, throwing a feeble water bubble at an officer. “That shit works on animals and children. You can’t reason with a _cop_!”

“I’m the Love Monkey!” The lemur gave another warning, pointing to a bright light at the end of the tunnel.

“That’s your cue, Larxene!” Vexen declared, dodging another bullet. “Stand ready!”

Larxene attempted to charge her thunder magic, but the gunfire was coming too fast. “I don’t have time! I need to focus!” She turned to Vexen. “Let me get behind your shield!”

“There’s not enough room!”

“There’s not enough time for this either!”

“I swear, you won’t fit!”

“I’M THE LOVE MONKEY!”

“Love Monkey, don’t!” But alas, Demyx’s cry was too late, as the lemur had leapt off his shoulder and into the squadron of the cops, clawing at their faces and kicking them in their groins. Indeed, he fought them in fantastical and farcical fashion. The Love Monkey’s heroics gave Larxene enough time to charge her lightning strike, just as the next C train got closer and closer.

“Now, Larxene!” Vexen commanded her. “Do it, now!”

“But the Love Monkey!” Demyx begged.

“DO IT, LARXENE!”

With a mighty roar, Larxene zapped the third rail, the C train inches away from our heroes. The heat from the attack activated the gummi, causing a flash of light to appear.

Demyx had little time to react. All he could do was take one last look at the Love Monkey. It should go without explaining how devastating it is to see a best friend look back with that same finality. Losing man’s best friend is perhaps one of the most painful tortures we endure in this life. Whether it’s the dog losing their master or the boy losing his lemur, this is a pain felt by all creatures.

Even Nobodies.


	7. The Worsening

Falling…falling…falling…

Not into darkness. Into some new mess, sure. But not into the abyss. Of course, Vexen wouldn’t know this. In that moment, one of many over the past 24 hours, he braced himself for death. It was a strange feeling, this lack of control he felt as he fell from the heavens. It was strange and…familiar. As if he had experienced this before.

He let go of the searing hot gummi that sent them to this new world, ready to give up. This wasn’t home they were falling into. At this rate, home was a faraway concept.

_That castle isn’t home_ , Vexen lamented. _Home is where you’re welcomed and respected. Dare I say, it’s where you’re loved._ He looked to his left to find Larxene nose-diving at breakneck speed, and then to his right to see Demyx floundering desperately, perhaps looking for his lost companion. _There’s no home for beings like us. Maybe in the next life. Maybe…_

Vexen crashed through the roof of an unusually tall building, abruptly ending his reflection. There was another crash immediately following his, probably one of his comrades. His whole body ached with pain, indicating he was still alive. For if Vexen was sure of anything after this adventure, it was that life is pain. Coughing due to the stirred up sawdust, Vexen couldn’t say much except for one groan.

“Argh…my skull…” Vexen rubbed his cranium and sat up, wincing. Some gibbering from the pile of rubble next to him caught his attention.

“No, no, no, no, no…” Demyx emerged from the debris, searching desperately for his pet. “He’s gotta be here somewhere…”

“He’s gone, boy,” Vexen said hoarsely, brushing woodchips off his shoulders.

“You don’t know that!” Demyx shot back, gingerly getting to his feet.

“He was too far away from the blast,” the scientist reasoned, steadying himself against a desk of some kind. “He didn’t make it.” He spit out a tooth knocked loose from the impact. “Where…where’s Larxene?”

Demyx looked around. “I think she fell _next_ to the building.” Some hope illuminated his face. “Maybe the Love Monkey is with her!”

“Demyx…”

“I mean, he took a liking to her after that whole pterodactyl thing. It’d make sense!”

“Demyx.”

“C’mon, we gotta get outta here and see…”

“Demyx!” Vexen grabbed the boy by the shoulders and sternly stared him down. “The Love Monkey is gone! He’s not with us anymore! He stayed in the 1980’s and that’s that!”

Demyx narrowed his eyes in realization. “He didn’t stay.” He took Vexen’s hands off his shoulders. “You left him there.”

“We had to, Demyx. We were running out of time and the Love Monkey bought us some…”

“He didn’t have to!” Demyx shouted, marking the rare occasion he ever raised his voice. “There was room behind your shield! I saw it, Larxene saw it, and you _definitely_ saw it. All you had to do was let Larxene behind you so she could do the thing…”

“There wasn’t enough time!”

“Lies! All lies!”

Vexen scoffed. “There’s nothing we could have done! Hell, things are as they should be now. That animal doesn’t even _belong_ in that time period. God knows how much we changed by letting him tag along.”

“I thought time travel didn’t work that way!”

“I DON’T KNOW ANYMORE! OK?!” Vexen exploded, his whole body heaving. “I don’t know _anything_ , apparently! I don’t know why someone of my intellect is destined to be debased in everyway possible! I don’t know why the only feelings we Nobodies feel is pain and fear of pain! I don’t know how you could attach yourself to some rodent and call it your friend!”

“ _Because he listened!_ ” Demyx screamed, effectively silencing Vexen. “More than _any_ of you black coat _losers_!” For a moment, the room was quiet, only heightening the tension. Finally, the heartless yet heartbroken musician spoke. “Do you know what it’s like to get insulted and mocked on a daily basis? Everyday, I hear I’m a worthless do-nothing. Sometimes, I can’t help but laugh at the cruel joke my life is because every time I get called out, I wonder how I even landed this job! Why am I here? Why do I even bother? Is this life? Doesn’t matter, though, does it? Because I still go on and do my job because I hope _one day_ , just one, I’ll be appreciated.” He stepped forward, prompting Vexen to step back in turn. “When you came up to me for your little science experiment, I thought that today was _that_ _day!_ I was so excited, even if I didn’t know what was going on.” Demyx let out a dry laugh, wiping his lip. “I wasn’t discouraged when we landed in dinosaur times. Even though you and Larxene kept bullying me and calling me stupid, there was a silver lining.” What appeared to be tears were reddening his eyes. Demyx continued, choked up, “The Love Monkey. It was weird, meeting him. He just clung onto me. I don’t know why he didn’t run off with his lemur family. Maybe they didn’t accept him for who he was, so he didn’t mind leaving them.” He nodded, smiling somberly. “I guess we had that in common.” Demyx paused, carefully considering his next words. “So, yeah. I made friends with some ‘rodent.’ Ha ha. Demyx made a funny. But at least I _had_ a friend.” He shook his head at Vexen, betrayed. “You just lost one.”

Demyx turned to leave, limping gingerly.

“Don’t turn your back on me!” Vexen staggered after the musician, grabbing him by the hood.

“Get off me!” Demyx tried to escape the scientist’s grasp but it was futile.

“No one listens to you, hm? No one listens to you? So it’s just flowers and roses for me?”

“I don’t wanna hear it, man!”

“No one does!” Vexen threw his arms up in the air, releasing Demyx. “That’s the problem! Even when I have your best interests in mind, I’m the villain! I’m the bad guy! Even though you’d be _lost_ without me to guide you, I’m mean and crabby! No one wants to hear what Vexen has to say because even though he’s the smartest, he’s not the strongest, he’s not the youngest, he’s not the fastest, he’s not even the handsomest! He’s just _Vexen_ and _Vexen_ isn’t good enough for any world or any time period or any Organization!” He glared at Demyx, fuming. “You think that daily disrespect would make us kindred spirits. But then again, I’m no adorable lemur.”

Demyx tilted his head, confused. “We _were_ kindred spirits, Vexen. I called you my _friend_. And even though you claim to know _so_ much, you don’t know what to do with compassion.” He leaned forward and hissed, “You’re. A. Dummy.”

“What is going _on_ in here?”

Vexen and Demyx turned at this new voice to see five cloaked figures standing in the doorway. Each dressed in some kind of animal mask. The one who spoke wore the mask of a unicorn. A taller and broader fellow wearing the mask of a bear stood at his left, and at his right a woman wearing a serpent-mask. Flanking the three of them was a boy in a leopard’s mask and a young girl in a fox mask.

“Looks like we have intruders!” The bear-man spoke up. “They’re probably searching for a copy of the Book of Prophecies!”

“Uh, no,” Demyx replied with a nervous laugh. “It’s not like that…”

“Then why are you in the clocktower?” The snake-woman interrupted the sitarist. “You should know this area is off-limits.”

“Wow, they made a hole in the ceiling,” the leopard-boy pointed out. “Their methods appear to be, um…unorthodox.”

“Look, this is just a big misunderstanding,” Demyx assured these queerly-dressed strangers. Nervous, he turned to Vexen. “Can you help me out here?”

“What? Me?” Vexen crossed his arms. “I thought I was a dummy.”

“Oh, don’t do that!”

“Maybe they’re right!” The fox-girl chirped. “This could all be an accident or something.”

“There are no accidents!” The bear-man roared before commanding the leopard-boy, “Gula! Check the Book of Prophecies!”

“Sure, boss,” Gula sarcastically replied as he took a book off a nearby shelf and began to flip through the pages.

“C’mon, Vexen,” Demyx pled with the scientist. “You gotta help me out here. These guys seem to be part of some funny cult. They even have prophecies. _Prophecies_!”

“Seems hypocritical for our cult to insult the other cult!” Vexen sassed back. “Oh! Maybe that culthood would make us _friends_! It all makes sense now!” He got to his feet and sauntered over to the unicorn-man, proceeding to vigorously shake his hand. “ _Hello!_ I am Vexen! I’m the resident genius of my cult. Who might you be?”

The unicorn-man withdrew his hand and turned to his colleagues. “They appear to be mental patients of some kind.”

“What should we do, Ira?” The snake-woman asked.

“What we should do with all mental patients gone astray!” The bear-man clenched his fist, triumphantly proclaiming, “ANNIHILATE THEM! _”_

“Oops!” Vexen shrugged. “I guess I’m not any good with first impressions!”

“What are you doing?!” Demyx asked furiously. “You’re gonna get us killed!”

“I’m giving up, that’s what I’m doing!” Vexen snapped back resolutely. “Doesn’t matter when or where we are, I’m destined to be alone and spat on. Maybe you have some false hope, but I’ve taken enough abuse over the years, thank you very much!”

“You can’t give up! We can still get out of this…”

“And venture off to some other dump where we’ll run into _more_ trouble!” Vexen spat, looking very delusional. “I say, we should get out while the going is good.”

The fox-girl tapped Vexen on the shoulder. “My friends might think you’re crazy, but I don’t, sir.”

Vexen turned around and bellowed, “WHO _ARE_ YOU PEOPLE?! Won’t you just kill us already?”

“See? They even want to be put down,” the bear-man crossed his arms, proud of his judgement.

“I still think we should get all the facts,” Ira countered.

“I agree with Ira,” the snake-woman seconded unnecessarily.

“Man, you are a sad guy,” Demyx insulted Vexen. “People call me lazy but you can’t even bother to get people to like you!”

“Well, people are trash, Demyx,” Vexen countered. “My newest thesis! People are trash! That will get me tenured for sure!”

“Here!” All eyes turned to Gula, who was reading a page from the book. “’Should two crazed mental patients invade the clocktower, eliminate them.”

“Well…” Ira smacked his lips. “If it’s in the Book of Prophecies…”

“See, Demyx,” Vexen wagged his finger. “Our failure is prophesized!”

“Excellent!” The bear-man cheered. “Let’s DO THIS!”

All five masked strangers took out Keyblades and prepared for battle.

Vexen and Demyx blinked at this development. “OK, Vexen,” the sitarist spoke up, scared. “Is our prophesized failure gonna be a painful one orrrr…”

“I don’t know,” Vexen answered, pale as a ghost. “I just hope it’s swift.”

***

“Hey. Are you dead? If you are, don’t answer.”

Larxene opened her eyes to find a yellow and blue blur standing over her. Still half-conscious, she wasn’t able to articulate words, so instead she grumbled.

“OK! You’re alive!” Larxene’s vision cleared a bit more, revealing this blur was a girl curiously studying her. “Tell me: are you a shooting star?”

Larxene struggled to speak. “What kind of…stupid question…is that?” She sat up, immediately regretting it. Something was definitely shattered. A rib, maybe? Turned out Larxene had landed on hard cobblestone.

“Well, I saw three shooting stars fall from the sky,” the girl explained. “No one believes me, though.”

“Three shooting…” Larxene repeated to herself. “That was us.” She noticed something lying on the ground not too far away from them. The gummi—that stupid, ridiculous, no-good gummi. “Great,” Larxene picked it up, in spite of the pain she felt bending over to do so. “Stuck in another hellhole.” She glared at the girl, realizing they shared one thing in common: their hairstyle. “At least it’s a fashionable one.” Pocketing the gummi, Larxene asked, “Do you have any idea where the other two stars landed?”

“The clocktower, over there,” the girl pointed to some absurdly tall structure standing a few blocks from where they were.

“Alright, thanks for the tip, kid.” Larxene started to walk away before the girl grabbed her arm.

“Don’t go!” She exclaimed. “I need to show you to my friends!”

“The hell?” Larxene retorted, confused. “What, is finding an unconscious woman on the street a merit badge for whatever you call girl scouts?”

“My friends don’t believe me,” the girl explained. “But if I show them to you, they’ll let me into their party.”

“Oh.” Larxene blinked. “Is their booze at this party?”

“What’s booze?”

“Yep. This is a hellhole, alright.”

The girl’s face lit up with excitement. “Look! There they are now!” She pointed at three kids her age walking out of a shop. One was dressed in an elaborate suit wearing a top hat that resembled a chocolate cake, the other in some overalls sporting a mohawk, and a third dressed in a pink fur-suit.

“What kind of fucked-up place ACK!” Larxene wasn’t able to finish her pejorative when the girl dragged her over to this group.

“Hey!” The girl greeted them.

The boy in the suit stopped in his tracks and paused to consider the girl’s name. “Hey…Arlene?”

“Elrena.”

“Elrena, right,” the boy nodded unenthusiastically. “What do you want?”

“This is the shooting star I told you about!” Elrena beamed. “One of them at least.”

Larxene pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. “I can’t believe this…”

The girl in overalls squinted at Larxene. “That doesn’t look like a star. More like a vagrant.”

“Or a mental patient!” A muffled androgynous voice spoke up behind the bunny mask of the boy or girl in the fur-suit.

“Well, either way, she fell from the sky!” Elrena gestured at her trophy. “See? She’s even bruised and stuff.” She poked Larxene’s rib, sending a jolt of a pain through her body.

“Hey! Watch it!”

“I dunno,” the boy stroked his chin. “It seems like you just beat up this homeless woman to prove a point.”

Larxene scrunched up her face in revulsion. “Hey! Watch it, asshat! I’m not homeless and there’s no universe where I’d let one of you punks kick my ass.”

The children gasped.

“Oh, no!” The girl stepped back in horror. “She’s angry and bitter!”

“She must be corrupted somehow…” The boy attempted to reason.

“By DARKNESS!” The fur-suited one concluded.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Larxene was on the verge of exploding. “I just don’t like you. Can’t you get that through your thick skulls?”

The boy ignored her, turning his attention to Elrena. “Elrena, you endanger us and all of Daybreak Town by hanging around this monster.”

“Piss off, kid!” Larxene snapped, sick of this shitshow.

“This kind of reckless behavior is why you’ll never be part of our party,” the boy continued. “Goodbye, Elrena.”

The three kids began to walk away, leaving Elrena desperately calling after them. “Wait! If you could just let us explain…”

“No chance,” the girl dismissed Elrena. “Go form your own party. I’m sure you’ll have a bunch of homeless nuts lining up to join you.”

“Yeah,” the fur-suited one needlessly affirmed.

And like that, the kids had gone away.

“What a bunch of stuck-up pricks…” Larxene grumbled, finally wrenching herself free from Elrena’s grasp. “I’m really missing the dinosaurs right about now…” She looked to Elrena, whose eyes were fixed on her feet. “What the—are you crying?”

“No,” Elrena faintly sobbed back.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, _they’re not worth the effort_ ,” Larxene threw her hands in the air. “I mean, to cry over. You should have squared up with them, then and there. Hell, I might have helped.”

“I can’t do that,” Elrena whimpered. “They’re my friends…”

Larxene sighed. “Look. I don’t know much about friends, but enemies, I’m well-versed in. And those up-tight, rooty-tooty shit-wads wanna be your enemy.”

“But…what did I do?”

“That’s it: _nothing_. You were a doormat. And people love picking on doormats. You can’t stand for that. You can’t give up while they make an idiot out of you. You gotta do something.”

“Like what?”

“Talk back! Insult them! Mock that Type-A nonsense of theirs! Hell, pick a fight! Jerkasses tend to talk less when they’re down a few teeth and faceplanted on the pavement.”

“But, isn’t that…falling to darkness?”

“Bitch.” Larxene face-palmed, frustrated by this girl’s saccharine innocence. “I don’t know what they’ve been teaching you in school but getting POed isn’t falling into darkness. Clocking someone isn’t falling into darkness. Beating up an asshole isn’t falling to darkness. It’s _common sense_.”

Elrena rubbed at her eyes to dry her tears. “I dunno…”

Larxene sighed. She didn’t remember anything about her childhood. One of the Nobody’s curses or blessings, depending on who you asked, was forgetting your past as a Somebody. Larxene, frankly, did not give a damn about her past, but she would be lying if this didn’t feel familiar. Aside from the odd coincidence in hairstyles, something about this girl being bullied by a bunch of high-and-mighty losers resonated with her. She didn’t want to admit it but Larxene felt this…fuzziness in her stomach?

_Ugh. Disgusting._

“Listen to me,” Larxene got on her knee and look Elrena in the eye. “You’re gonna go through a bunch of shit in your life. You just are. You’ll meet jerks like those kids all the time. They’ll badger you and disrespect you and make you feel like shit. But I’m telling you, you have to stand your ground. _Do not give up._ There will be days when you want to give up, but _don’t_. Got it?”

“Yeah,” Elrena nodded.

“So next time someone wants to start shit with you, give them this…” Larxene cleared her throat. “’I didn’t ask for your garbage opinion.’ That’s a good start.”

“Alright,” the girl smiled, cheered up. “I’ll try it.”

“Good.” Larxene got up and looked at the tall building in the distance. “You said the clocktower is over there?”

“Yeah,” Elrena replied. “Wait, you’re not going there, are you?”

“Um, _yeah_. That’s why I asked.”

“But…the foretellers said that area is off-limits.”

Larxene groaned. “Lesson Number Two in bullshit tolerance: ignore bullshit rules.” She paused. “C’mon. I’ll take you with me. Give you a live demonstration.”

“Really?”

“Sure, sport.” Larxene led the way, signaling Elrena to follow. “Keep up, will you?”

Elrena jogged to catch up with Larxene, eagerly joining her new mentor as they strode to the center of town.

***

“Demyx? Where are you?” Saix called out, patrolling the castle’s monotonous corridors. “You must face the consequences for your actions.”

“What might those be?” Luxord asked, trailing right behind him.

Saix took out the Organization’s Term and Conditions: Pocket Edition and scrolled through the pages. “Let’s see…assaulting a fellow Organization member warrants…one week’s torture.”

“Ah,” Luxord nodded. “If he knows that, then we’ll have no chance of coaxing him out in the open.”

“Ha. As if Demyx knows the Terms and Conditions. He’s a vapid fool, nothing more…”

“DANCE, WATER, DANCE!”

Saix didn’t have time to look up when he was whipped in the face with water by none other than the young musician they were looking for. He hit and ran the Lunar Diviner and was already on the move. Right behind him were a drenched Xigbar and Xaldin.

“Get that punk!” Xigbar called after him, dripping wet.

“He must suffer the most dire punishment!” Xaldin added, whipping his soggy dreadlocks back.

“My God, he’s on a rampage!” Luxord began to panic. “We must…” Another water-whip, this time grazing the gambler. He readied his cards to retaliate, entering what could be his final game…

When suddenly, their attacker was impaled with none other than Marluxia’s scythe.

“D-DANCE W-WATER…DAAAAANCE…” In a flurry of sparks, Replemyx fell to the ground lifeless.

“He’s on no rampage,” Marluxia explained as wedged his weapon free from the body. “He’s malfunctioning.”

“Malfunctioning?” Saix some water from his hair. “What are you on about?”

“He’s one of Vexen’s replicas, set loose on us for some reason.” Marluxia unveiled Larxica’s severed head from his coat. “Demyx isn’t the only one.”

“What the hell?” Xigbar scoffed. “I knew that kook could hold a grudge but I never thought he’d sic his creepy clone army on us.”

“Rejection is a powerful incentive,” Xaldin crossed his arms. “And Vexen was accustomed to it.”

“What is going on here?” Xemnas stepped off the castle’s Crooked Ascension, immediately noticing what remained of Replemyx and Larxica. “What’s this? Have you felled your own comrades? What kind of treason…”

“We’re no traitors, Xemnas,” Saix interrupted the Superior. “It is Vexen who is the traitor.”

“What are you talking about? Vexen is completely trustworthy. That’s why I entrusted him to raise the castle’s defenses for the incoming invasion. As we speak, he’s in the control room activating all necessary measures. There is no way he had anything to do with…” Xemnas trailed off, eying something down the hallway. Naturally, his minions joined him.

Replexen was walking into a wall, again and again, triggering the same command. “ARGH! MY SKULL! ARGH! MY SKULL! ARGH! MY…”

Xemnas finally spoke up. “I suspect we’ve been had.” He put Replexen out of its misery, beheading him with one swing his of laser-sword.

“….MY…SKULL…”

“The question is,” Luxord pitched in. “By whom?”

“…and out of all them, red travels the farthest.”

“Yes, yes. So I’ve heard.”

All heads turned in the other direction to Axel and Zexion who were casually strolling, unbeknownst to what was going on.

“No. 6.” Xemnas called out.

The book-master yelped, freezing both him and the fiery assassin in their tracks. “Oh! Xemnas! H-how are you doing?”

“Where’s Vexen?”

“Vexen?” Zexion gulped. “He’s probably in the lab, b-brooding…”

Xaldin picked up Replexen’s head by his long and luscious locks.

Zexion wasn’t sure what to say, but fortunately, Axel had him covered with a healthy batch of feigned concern. “Oh nooooooo! What happened to him? Was there an accident?”

“There was,” Saix answered. “A mistake in trusting that foul scientist and his _apprentice_.” He glared at Zexion. “This is a replica, along with these…” Saix gestured to the fallen Replemyx and Larxica. “We suspect you and your master set them loose out of spite. Where’s Vexen? In hiding?”

Zexion sighed, knowing the game was up. “No. He…he’s dead.”

There was silence.

“Really?” Zexion cocked his eyebrow. “No collective gasp…”

“C’mon! Get on with it!” Xigbar shouted from the back.

“He died,” Zexion continued. “From an experiment we conducted. Along with Larxene and Demyx. They’re…dead, too.”

“You’ve eliminated multiple comrades…” Xemnas spoke up. “…and tried to cover it up.”

“That’s treason of the highest level,” Marluxia added with an embarrassing voice crack, sweating for some reason.

“I know!” Zexion pressed his hands together, ready to beg. “It’s terrible and heinous and completely against everything I believe. I know the punishment for doing something like this is…”

“Death.”

Everyone yelped. Lexaeus had just stepped out of the men’s room. “Sorry, I was just freshening up and…am I interrupting something?”

No one bothered to answer him.

“Axel,” Saix turned to their No. 8, who had remained silent for the most part. “You’ve been spending a good deal of time with Zexion as of late. You even scorched Vexen’s room, isn’t that right, Lexaeus?”

Lexaeus nodded solemnly, not entirely sure of what was happening.

“You weren’t debating Kantian philosophy, were you?” Saix stared his old friend down, his eyes searching the inner-depths of Axel’s hollow frame.

Axel bit his lip nervously and glanced at Zexion, who was looking at him with bated breath. He was many things, but snitch wasn’t one of them. However, he also wasn’t a traitor. To the Organization, sure. But Saix? No, he was…he was a friend. Yet, Zexion was a friend as well. Somehow, over the past twenty four hours, they had managed to have each other’s backs.

No. Axel would tell the truth. “We weren’t.”

“Then what were you doing?” Saix interrogated sternly

“I was asked to participate in their experiment…”

“So you were coerced?”

“What? No, not exact…”

“There it is, then.” Saix cut Axel off. “Zexion, you are charged with the death of our comrades Four, Nine, and Eleven and will be executed on the Superior’s order.” He turned to his friend. “Axel, you are charged with aiding and abetting the murderer, but since you were coerced, you are sentenced to merely one day’s community service.”

“What?!” Zexion and Axel cried at the same time.

Xigbar loaded a cartridge into one of his rifles and chinned towards Zexion. “So are we gonna Old Yeller this kid or what?”

Xemnas raised his hand, signaling the sniper to stand down. “The execution can wait.” Xigbar groaned audibly but the Superior continued. “I tasked Vexen—that is, his replica—with raising the castle’s defenses in preparation for an incoming Heartless invasion. Considering he was merely a robot walking into…walls,” he sighed. “No necessary action was taken.”

“Which means we’re vulnerable to attack,” Xaldin lamented gravely.

“Correct. We must stand ready for the impending assault.” Xemnas turned his attention to Zexion. “Apprehend the traitor and lock him away. We’ll dispose of him later.”

Xaldin and Marluxia followed the Superior’s order and took Zexion by each arm, dragging him to the castle’s dungeon. “C’mon! You can’t do this! You’ll need my help!

Axel stepped forward to stop his friend’s arrest, but Saix put a staying hand on his shoulder. “Don’t ruin what we have going, Axel,” he warned. “He’s just one pawn out of the picture.” Saix patted Axel on the back and walked off. “Get ready and stay safe.”

Left alone, Axel got one last look at Zexion, who was glaring back at him. None of them were experts on emotion, but Axel knew the look of someone betrayed, of someone feeling they had been abandoned. That yearning expression begging a friend to do something, _anything_ to save them. To cry out in protest, to chase after them, even to start a fight with their aggressors.

But Axel did nothing.

***

“And if you get into a fight, just remember three things: hair up, earrings off, Vaseline on your face.” Larxene lectured her new admirer as they traversed the dark depths of the clocktower.

“Wow,” Elrena gawped in awe. “I never thought of that.”

“Of course you didn’t. You’ve been conditioned by this…commune.”

“You might be right,” Elrena agreed, leading Larxene onto a gear-shaped elevator. “There’s a lot the Foretellers don’t tell us. We just collect Lux, go home, collect more Lux and rinse, wash, and repeat.”

“That must make for a pretty boring life.” Larxene said as the gear began its ascent upwards.

“I cope. I just go on with the hope that the Foretellers will have the answers we need once we do what we need to do.”

The gear creaked to a stop, revealing those very Foretellers engaged in combat with Vexen and Demyx!

“Holy shit!” Larxene cried. “What…what are they doing?”

“Fighting,” Elrena explained. “Isn’t it obvious?”

To the regular Daybreak Town citizen, yes. But to the foreigner, the sight of people in animal-masks pelting two strangers with medals was a strange sight.

“Argh!” Demyx cried. “Someone help us!”

“This is mildly annoying and somewhat painful!” Vexen protested. “Why does even my death have to be a slow and monotonous torture?!”

“These are tough opponents,” Ira said, refusing to yield in his barrage of collectible trading pins.

“We’ll wear them out eventually!” the bear-man roared.

“But we’re running out of medals,” Gula reasoned, as his assault was beginning to slow down.

“Then that leaves us with no choice,” said the snake-woman.

“You don’t mean…” the fox-girl whimpered anxiously.

Ira took out an extraordinarily shiny medal. “SUPERNOVA ++!”

“Oh no!” Elrena gasped.

“What?” Larxene demanded to know. “What’s going on?”

“That’s the most powerful attack there is,” the girl frantically explained. “A fiery explosion ten times the heat of the Sun!”

“Heat…” Larxene took the gummi out of her pocket.

_It’s now or never_.

“I’m gonna go, kid,” Larxene said solemnly. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What?” Elrena asked, scared of what was transpiring around her.

“Remember what I told you.” Larxene clenched the gummi tighter.

Elrena blinked. “Don’t take shit?”

“Never ever, kid.” And with that, Larxene charged into the battle just as Ira threw the Supernova ++ medal. Holding the gummi as a shield, she jumped in front of Vexen and Demyx. However, not everything went according to plan. She was one second too early, as the medal made contact her stomach, not the gummi. The medal activated on impact, igniting a violent explosion that Larxene was caught in the midst of. Although Larxene was hit by the blast first, the gummi followed in short order, the heat triggering the gummi’s trademark flash of light.

When the dust cleared, the Foretellers and Elrena were left alone in the clocktower, wondering what had become of our heroes, and pondering what strange land they had gone off to now.


	8. The Epiphany

Vexen opened his eyes, his ears still ringing from the blast. It had all happened so fast. Larxene’s entrance, the supernova, the flash of light—in an instant, just like that, Vexen found himself in another strange land. He sat up and eyed his surroundings. Flowers to his left, flowers to his right, and a lovely paved street in front of him. He appeared to be in a public garden of some sort.

There was a rustling in some flowers not too far away from him. Demyx had landed face-down in a plot of carnations. “Boy,” Vexen got to his feet. “Are you alright?”

“Wha?” Demyx slurred, clearly dazed. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” He blinked, the radiant sunlight making him squint. “What happened?”

“Larxene came at the right time,” Vexen surmised. “She took out the gummi just as that supernova was cast. She…” A figure on the pavement behind him caught his eye. “Oh no.”

“What’s wrong?” Demyx followed Vexen’s eyes, only to discover a singed Larxene, blackened with soot. “Holy crap.” He limped over there and immediately checked to see if she was alright. “I don’t get it. Why did she get burned?”

“I’m not sure,” Vexen said, attempting to keep his cool in spite of the panic he felt creeping inside. “Perhaps because the supernova reached her before it reached the gummi. Yes, that’s what happened to the pterodactyl when we left to Cretaceous Era. It all makes sense…” He grasped his head, which was buzzing with all manner of anxious thoughts and fears. Usually an objective analysis of a situation made him feel at peace but for some reason, it did no good now.

“C’mon, c’mon…” Demyx slapped Larxene once, twice, almost thrice until Vexen but grabbed Demyx’s wrist. He got down to one knee and checked for any sign of breathing.

Grimly, Vexen got to his feet. “She’s gone.”

“What?” Demyx shook his head. “No. That’s just you giving up again.” He returned to attempting to shake Larxene back to life. “C’mon, Larxene. It’s Water-Boy. Stupid Water-Boy. Wake up.”

“I’m a scientist, Demyx. And I can tell she’s gone. Her body’s cold, her face is pale, her lungs aren’t functioning—if she had a heart, there’d be no pulse. She’s gone, Demyx!”

Demyx sighed, standing up with his back to the academic. “I can’t believe it…”

Vexen was admittedly curious. “Why do you care?”

The musician turned ever-so slightly. “Huh?”

“Why do you care for her? I can understand the Love Monkey…but why her? She treated you the worst of all. Yet you mourn her…”

“I don’t know,” Demyx replied hoarsely. “Maybe it has something to do with that compassion thing I mentioned earlier.”

“You’re a Nobody, boy,” Vexen scoffed. “I know it’s typical for us to experience a stage of denial, but you _can’t_ feel compassion. You lost that the moment you lost your heart.”

“Well, I don’t know what it is, then!” Demyx turned around and snapped at Vexen straight in his face. “All I know is I _feel_ something and that something is pretty shitty!”

“You’re a logical fallacy,” Vexen spat. “A walking contradiction. You’ve no heart, yet you weep for your tormentors.”

“Maybe that’s because I like to see the good in people,” Demyx stepped closer to the scientist, balling his fists. “Like I did with you during your Replica lecture. I make an effort to like people. You don’t even try!”

“Because I’m a Nobody!” Vexen screamed back, somehow red with anger. “I can’t grow close to people or admire them or befriend them because _I’m a Nobody!_ ”

“If it really is so impossible for a Nobody to like people,” Demyx cocked his head, sneering, “then why do you want us other Nobodies to like you so badly?”

Vexen opened his mouth to retort but nothing came of it. The boy actually got him there. He…he outsmarted him? No! He refused to believe it. Demyx knew nothing. He…didn’t get what the core issue was. He knew nothing about the mysteries of the heart, the very mysteries Vexen spent years decoding. It was impossible. Impossible!

Vexen shoved Demyx in the shoulder. The boy was shocked.

“Wha…what was that?” Demyx asked with a ghost of his voice.

“I…I shoved you,” Vexen straightened his posture as if to assert his dominance. “To show you what’s what.”

“Why, you…” Demyx bit his lip and shoved the scientist back.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Vexen sputtered, eyes wide with shock.

“I’m showing you what really is what, and it’s not the what you’re trying to sell me, you…” Demyx searched for an insult but was too angry to think. “…stupid-head.”

Vexen gasped, his fists shaking with a rage he had never before felt.

With a battle cry, he tackled Demyx, and the two began to roll around on the pavement, tearing at each other’s hair and throwing the occasional slap or two. It was a sloppy scuffle, so sloppy they unknowingly rolled under some construction tape and into an open manhole. After the fall, there was a moment’s peace as the two recovered their senses. Fortunately, the tunnels were illuminated, and they weren’t in pitch-black darkness.

“Are you alright?” Vexen spoke up.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Demyx replied.

The two looked at each other. Then they reengaged in combat, throwing each other against the walls, clumsily swinging punches.

Their fight took them down the tunnel to an area marked with a sign that read, “Water Purifier: Under Maintenance.” The duel did not cease, even as it moved them to catwalks overlooking a churning body of water.

At one point, Demyx had Vexen pinned to the floor. “What happened to ‘giving up?’”

“I’d rather a cult of animal-masked teenagers eviscerate me than a nitwit like you!” Vexen shot back.

Demyx was about to slam Vexen’s skull against the metal railing but a queer sound caught their attention.

“La la la la la LA la la…”

“What in blazes?” Vexen got out from under Demyx and spied someone crossing the catwalk across from them. Not just crossing, but…frolicking.

Indeed, it was a young boy in a sailor’s outfit skipping with a lollipop in one hand and a book in the other. Underneath his seaman’s cap was a bundle of luscious golden locks, and on his face the brightest of smiles.

“Whoa,” Demyx joined Vexen at the railing. “It’s a local.”

“Yes, it…it is,” Vexen narrowed his eyes closely studying the child, who had stopped in his tracks as of finishing his lolly. Then, with a flourish, he took out a pen, clicked it, opened his notebook, and began to scribble vigorously.

“What’s he doing?” Demyx inquired.

“What’s he…” Vexen glared at Demyx in disbelief. “We’re not bearing witness to a nature documentary. We _were_ engaging in a bout of pugilism. Enough with the questions. Have at…” He trailed off. “…you.”

A trio of children were strolling on the adjacent catwalk, twice the size of the studious boy they had observed. The boy who led them appeared to be as broad as a writing desk and just as thick!

This boy called out to the half-pint. “Hey, Candy-Britches!”

Candy-Britches looked up with a smile. “Oh, hello, friends! What might the matter be?”

“Whaddya doin’ here?” The thug interrogated. “This is trespassing. Never thought you’d break the law.”

“Neither did I, but I’m planning to build a scale model of the purifier and I absolutely _need_ a diagram to reference.” Candy-Britches blinked. “Why are you here?”

“Doin’ drugs and drinkin’ booze,” the thug replied. “You know. Cool stuff. Wanna join?”

“I’ll pass, gentleman,” Candy-Britches returned to his studies. “Thank you for the offer.”

“You’ll pass?” The children murmured in disbelief, before the leader spoke up on their behalf. “You pass, alright…as a _girl_!”

“Ooooooooo,” oooooooooed the thug’s lackeys.

“Excuse me?” whimpered Candy-Britches.

“Throw him off the railing!” A lackey suggested.

“Wow, that escalated quickly,” Demyx commented.

“Good God, they’re not going to do it, really?” Vexen whispered, horrified.

“C’mon. This looks like a civilized place. No way that would hap…”

“SOMEBODY HELP ME! I CAN’T SWIM!” Candy-Britches screamed as he was thrown off the railing into the swirling vat of water below.

“That’s for liking science, dweebus!” The bullies high-fived each other and were on their way to do their drugs and alcohol like the demented delinquents they were.

“Holy shit!” Demyx’s jaw dropped. “We must be in a bad neighborhood…”

“Come on!” Vexen cried. “We’ve got to do something!”

“Since when did you give a…” But Vexen had already taken out his shield and was casting ice magic on the pipes that were leaking water into the vat. The water had ceased to churn and was now stagnant.

“That should buy us some time,” Vexen explained frantically.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving that boy!”

“Why?”

“I don’t know! It’s just an instinct I’m feeling.”

“Compassion?”

“Let’s not do this now!” Vexen studied the vat below them. “How good of a swimmer are you?”

“Dude. I’m the Water-Boy.”

“Good.” Vexen made an ice-slide leading down to the vat and signaled for Demyx to slide down there. “Let’s go!”

Demyx slid down the frozen slope right into the water, immediately beginning his search for Candy-Britches. Vexen followed close behind, but stopped at the foot of the slide, searching for some solid ground. In the distance was a platform supporting the purifier. He froze a path there and hurried across his makeshift road, anticipating Demyx’s rescue of the boy.

But that rescue was not so easy. Demyx searched the dark depths, but it was to no avail. He dove deeper and deeper until…there! He found Candy-Britches, drifting to his doom. However, he was too far away, there was no way he could get there fast enough…

And then, like a gift from above, another figure was swimming after Candy-Britches. He took the boy in his arms and was beginning to swim upwards.

_He’s in too deep. He’s not gonna make it back up in time._ Demyx thought on his feet. Unveiling his sitar, he played one rocking note, sending a wave that carried the three of them across the vat, and right onto the platform where Vexen was waiting.

Drenched, Vexen shook the hair out of his eyes. “Good work, Demyx.”

Demyx coughed up some water. “No problem.” He glanced at Candy-Britches, who was unconscious a few feet away from them. “We’re not done yet.”

“We have to hurry!” The stranger exclaimed, rushing over to Candy-Britches, and applying pressure to his chest, attempting to force the water out of his lungs. He was another boy, about the same age as Candy-Britches, though slightly taller.

Vexen and Demyx watched with bated breath, feeling an empathy unfamiliar to Nobodies. They looked on with concern.

“C’mon,” the boy urged, pressing again and again on the victim’s chest. “You can make it!”

“He won’t make it,” Vexen anxiously muttered to no one in particular. He stepped forward to tell the boy to cease his efforts, but Demyx put a staying hand on Vexen’s arm.

“I know you can do this,” the stranger pled with Candy-Britches. “Don’t give up!”

Vexen suddenly felt a pang in his chest, one he had not felt since…

“I’m begging you! Don’t give up!” The boy continued to shout, his eyes watering. “We’re almost there.”

Demyx noticed Vexen’s sudden pain. “Are you alright, Vex?”

“We’re almost there,” the boy repeated. “We’re almost there, you just have to work with me, you hear? I’m begging you, DON’T GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT!”

Another pang, causing Vexen to stagger back. Suddenly, he was feeling light-headed, on the verge of passing out.

“I’m not gonna leave you behind,” the stranger promised, pressing again and again, each push getting harder than the last. “Just. Stay. With. Me!”

Candy-Britches spat up a pint of water and began to fall into a series of coughs. He was alive!

“He did it!” Demyx exclaimed. “Vexen, he…” But Vexen was supporting himself against a wall, his eyes watering with tears of his own. “Vexen, are you…?”

Candy-Britches was able to manage a few words. “Who…are…you?”

The stranger smiled. “Call me Ansem.”

With that word, a whole life flashed before Vexen’s eyes, a life he quickly understood to be his own. With each memory came another sharp pang, and with each pang came tears. Tears upon tears, Vexen could not stop weeping. The Nobody’s Curse was broken, and his memory was his once more. But were these really tears of joy?

“Vexen,” Demyx reached out for his friend, but the scientist walked away, seeking solitude.

_I finally know everything only to discover that I am_ nothing _._

***

It was darkness. An endless abyss with no sight of light.

Larxene was entrenched in it, though she did not feel pain. She was in enveloped it, though she did not feel dread. She almost wasn’t sentient, yet a tiny fraction of her willpower remained.

_Where am I?_ she thought, for that was all she was able to do.

A voice called out from the darkness. Larxene couldn’t hear the voice, but rather, she could feel it. _The end. Possibly. Depending on what you choose._

A small light appeared in the abyss’s center, with a figure floating underneath it. _That’s…that’s me._

_Correct_ , the voice resounded. Indeed, Larxene saw herself. She was out of her own body, displaced and detached.

She noted the bright shard hovering over her lifeless form. _What’s that?_

_Your heart. Or…what’s left._

_But…I don’t have a heart. I’m a Nobody._

_If you say so._ Two options appeared beneath her body. One read “Continue,” the other “Load Game.” _This is a first for you, so I’ll explain this slowly. If you continue, you pick up where you left off, a being with a fraction of a heart and no friends to speak of. If you load game, you can go to when you last saved._

_When I last saved?_

_When was that?_ The voice pondered. The Load Game option was highlighted and then clicked open, revealing 98 slots that read empty, but on top that read… _Daybreak Town, Level 7, about a dozen years of playtime. Been a while since you took a rest, huh?_

_I guess._

_But, hey. You can consider it a fresh start. You can go back to when you were young and happy and had hopes and aspirations…_ A weighty pause. _…or you can stay as you are now, bitter and disliked by everyone. Which will it be?_

Larxene was silent. She didn’t remember this old life, yet it somehow felt familiar. Just hearing about it made her long for it, as if a part of herself was left behind there, in that lost past life. And she was happy. Larxene couldn’t even remember a time when she was happy.

_Well?_

Finally, Larxene’s willpower spoke up. _Continue._

_What was that?_

_Continue. I said continue._

_Are you sure?_

Another pause.

_I just got done telling some dumb girl to never ever take shit._ Larxene managed a laugh. _And this seems like a boatload of shit you’re selling me. I don’t need a fresh start. I’m doing fine as is. I’d be a hell of a wuss to sit out now._ She scoffed. _I’ll pass._

The voice sighed. _If you insist. Continue to suffer, for all I care. I’m an impartial observer._

“Continue” was highlighted.

_Wait!_ Larxene spoke up. _Just_ who _are you?_

_Me? Oh, I’m just a guy who wasted $40 on this DLC. Probably should have returned this after the Dinosaur level but I was optimistic._ The voice sighed. _It’s whatever._

Before Larxene could begin to decipher what that meant, “Continue” was selected and the void faded from darkness to white light.

Larxene squinted as that white light became narrower and narrower until it was revealed to be the sun. She sat up groggily, realizing suddenly she had control of her body. The nymph took a quick look at her hands, moving them as she wished. Her life was hers once more.

She took her time getting up, since she still felt injured from the supernova. Larxene must have looked like a lunatic, covered in soot in the middle of this public garden. Three seedy-looking kids were pointing at her from a distance, whispering conspiracy theories to each other as to who she might be.

_Fuck ‘em_ , Larxene stretched. _I gotta find Dumb and Dumber. They oughta hear I just met the Angel of Death._ She noticed a manhole was forced open. Taking a peek inside, Larxene saw Demyx’s vest from the 80’s, torn off in what looked like a nasty scuffle. _That’s a clue._

And so she dove into the sewers in search of her comrades, rejuvenated and back from the dead.

***

The Dungeon that Never Was shared a lot in common with the rest of the castle. Grey, lifeless, sterile—the only difference in this instance was that there were enforced steel doors, barred windows, and toilets without stalls. In spite of his numerous violations, Axel had never landed himself here, mostly thanks to Saix consistently putting a good word in for him.

Zexion, however, wasn’t so lucky, as he was locked away in a cell guarded by the stalwart Lexaeus. Axel gulped at the mere sight of the prison guard from around the corner. He wasn’t sure if he could fast-talk his way past him, considering he and Zexion barely got away with it the first time.

Overcoming his nerves, Axel approached Lexaeus. “Hey. How’s it hanging?”

“You’re not getting in,” Lexaeus responded sternly, arms crossed.

_There goes the small talk of tonight’s festivities_. Axel sighed. “Look, I don’t want to get in. I just want to talk to him through the door. What ever happened to visiting hours?”

“We’re running low considering there’s a deadly space invasion coming in…” Lexaeus checked his wrist, on which there was no watch. “…a half hour, thereabouts.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Axel threw his hands in the air. “The old ‘check the nonexistent watch’ gag? I never took you for a joker.”

“Does it look like I’m laughing?” Lexaeus furrowed his brow, fixed in his stance.

Axel exhaled deeply. “Is this because we goofed you with Replexen?”

“I’m not fond of being goofed with.”

“Hey, I’m sorry, alright? We had to, so we could…”

“Why are you apologizing?” Lexaeus asked, his disposition unchanged. “You were coerced, weren’t you?”

Axel bit his lip, recalling Saix’s lie. “Could I just talk to him for a few minutes? Hey, I could even take your post so you can prepare for battle and whatever. You’d be much more use out there than me…”

“That would be disobeying an order.”

“Five minutes, alright?” Axel pled with the sentry. “Just give me five.”

Lexaeus was quiet for some time. “Alright. Five. And only five.” He stepped aside.

“Thank you,” Axel stepped towards the door.

“And Axel…”

The fiery assassin turned to Lexaeus.

“It was a good goof. Not one worth being executed over.” Lexaeus said solemnly. “I wish you the best.” He walked around the corner, out of Axel’s earshot where he would wait the five minutes.

Axel bit his lip, waiting for Lexaeus to turn the corner. Once he was out of sight, he crept up to the door’s bars. “Zexion! It’s me! Axel!”

From a dark corner of the room, Zexion sat on a bench, hunched over and his face obscured by his silver hair. He didn’t say a word.

“I just came to, uh, apologize,” Axel explained. “So…I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Zexion looked up, curious. “For what? Letting me get dragged off while you got off scot free?”

“Hey, that wasn’t my fault! I was gonna confess! But Saix already made my case…”

“That you were coerced?” The bookworm blew some hair out of his face and got to his feet, slowly approaching the door. “So you let him cover up for you with that lie…”

“I mean, there’s some truth in it.” Axel shrugged with an anxious grin.

“I gave you a yes or no option with helping our experiment. You picked yes.”

“OK, but…”

“And _you_ were the one to suggest covering up this scandal in the first place. If anyone was coerced, it was me!”

“ALRIGHT! I get it!” Axel exploded, crossing his arms, and leaning against the door with his back. “I’m a scumbag! Took you long enough to find out.”

Zexion shook his head, disgusted. “I was such an idiot. I vouched for you. Vexen didn’t want you on board, but I figured you were reliable. Guess I was wrong.”

“Guess you were,” Axel said somberly.

“That’s it? You’re just resigned to being a scumbag? You don’t want to aspire to anything greater than that?”

“How much can I aspire to, really?” Axel replied bitterly. “We’re Nobodies. We don’t exist, so why bother acting like we could be friends?”

“You don’t seem to have any problems with Saix.”

“That’s different. We go back. Joined at the same time and we were best friends long before that.” Axel sighed. “Even if I can’t remember ‘before’ all that well.”

“Hm,” Zexion nodded, turning his back against the door.

“Hm? What does _that_ mean?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” Zexion stroked his chin pensively, repeating, “We don’t exist.” He laughed. “You know that saying, ‘If a tree falls in the forest…’”

“Yeah, Confucius. I know the saying.”

“I’ve been thinking lately about that, and how it pertains to our existence. We technically don’t exist, but here we are, in the flesh, talking to one another.” Zexion brushed some hair away from his face. “What we really lack is emotional content. We barely know how to interact with one another, much less get along. Some of us manage to be close, perhaps due to some connection in our past lives—me and Vexen, you and Saix. But outside of those relationships, we can’t really call each other comrades, can we? That’s what I thought, at least.” The young academic sighed. “I was proven wrong when suddenly, I found myself working with a delinquent arsonist.”

Axel looked up.

“Yes, a little criminal,” Zexion nodded, smirking. “Forced together by circumstance, we watched each other’s backs. At first, it appeared it was out of self-preservation. But the more I worked with him, I realized…I was concerned. I felt a contemporary of mine was in danger. I’ve never felt this with Vexen because he was always my mentor. Maybe you’ve felt this with Saix.”

“A bit, yeah,” Axel said with a forlorn smile.

“It felt so bizarre, this feeling. So foreign, yet so familiar. Like I experienced it before.” Zexion took a deep breath. “It was then I realized…this was existence. This feeling that I was being heard, like the tree falling in the forest. That’s what existence is. To be acknowledged, respected, cared for.” He appeared to be choked up. “I cared about what happened to you. I figured the feeling was mutual. I guess my existence was fraudulent.”

Axel lowered his head, entrenched in his thoughts. “You sure about that?”

“An apology isn’t going to cover it, Axel.”

“Get away from the door.”

Zexion turned around with one eyebrow cocked. “What?”

“GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR!” Axel took out his chakrams, effectively getting Zexion to jump to the other end of the cell. He struck them together, igniting a small fireball, which only grew larger and larger until, with a fury, he slung it at the prison door, blowing it wide open.

Zexion coughed from the dust cloud, stunned by what just happened. “What are you doing?!”

“Existing you into existence,” Axel nonchalantly replied, putting away his weapons. “You’re welcome.”

“You know this is gonna get you…”

“Executed?” Axel shrugged. “I know.”

“Well, we gotta get going…” Zexion trailed off, for around the corner stood Lexaeus, mildly surprised by what stood before him.

“Your five minutes are up,” was all the sentry could muster.

“Look,” Axel held his hands up. “Whatever storm of pain you’re gonna unleash, unleash it on me. Zexion had nothing to do with this. You could tell because it’s poorly thought out and it involves fire…”

Lexaeus held up his hand, signaling Axel to stop, which he did immediately. “Go.”

“But, Lexaeus,” Zexion spoke up. “What about…”

“Our castle is going to be invaded any moment now,” Lexaeus replied curtly. “Two…’goofs’ such as yourselves don’t concern me as much as the army of darkness headed our way. Now go, before someone with less fortunate priorities finds you’ve escaped.”

Axel and Zexion smirked and sprinted to the spiral stairwell that headed to the basement level of the castle.

“So,” Axel said, keeping up with Zexion. “Are we hiding in Agrabah or…?”

“We’re not leaving the castle.”

“Excuse me?” Axel stopped in his tracks, causing Zexion to do the same. “Why the hell did I break you out then?”

“I’m not fond of constantly looking over our shoulders for Xaldin’s lance or Marluxia’s scythe,” Zexion explained. “No, we’re gonna redeem ourselves to the Organization by stopping the invasion.”

“And how are we going to do that?”

“I have an idea. Just trust me.”

Axel sighed. “Sure. I trust you.”

“Good. And, Axel…” Zexion smiled. “…thank you.”

Axel flashed a thumbs-up. “C’mon, bookworm. Let’s get to that idea of yours.”

Zexion beamed back, and led the way up the stairs, on their way to the academic’s latest idea and back to redemption.

***

Vexen was crouched against a backwall, watching the boys chat from afar. It seemed the tragedy was quickly forgotten, as they were showing each other their notebooks, soggy as they were, and laughing the day away.

_Fast friends,_ he recalled, a lump rising in his throat. _Truly the best there were._

“Hey.” Vexen looked up and saw Demyx standing over him. “How are you holding up?”

“Oh,” the scientist shrugged, replying morosely, “A bit sore. You have a solid right hook, you know…”

“I’m talking about the crying.” Demyx sat down beside Vexen. “You were, uh, really having at it.”

“Was I?” Vexen rubbed at his eye. “I don’t know. I suppose watching someone come back from the brink of death has that effect on you.”

“Huh,” the youth nodded, looking off into the distance.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” Demyx dismissed the question. “It’s just I was feeling that kind of way when the Love Monkey and Larxene died today—can you believe that happened today?”

“Technically it happened across a few thousand years,” Vexen provided the scientific explanation. “But I know what you mean. Proceed.”

“Well, I was feeling sad and was gonna cry,” Demyx continued. “So, maybe us Nobodies do have emotions?” He waved off the notion. “I dunno. Just thought you could use that for one your hypothesises.”

“Hypotheses,” Vexen corrected with a melancholy smile. “And thank you. I’ll consider it.”

For a moment, the two just sat there, watching the boys chitter and chatter.

“So, uh, that Ansem,” Demyx broke the silence. “He said something familiar that you told me back in the dinosaur place. ‘Don’t go gentle into that good night.’”

Vexen’s expression darkened.

“What’s the deal with that?” the musician asked, curious.

With a heavy sigh, Vexen explained, “It’s poetry. By Dylan Thomas.”

“Oh. You read him in one of your books?”

“No,” Vexen shook his head. “I never was one for poetry. That right-brained nonsense was never for me.” He exhaled. “It was left in my subconscious by a poet some years ago.”

“Really?” Demyx stopped to think. “Was it that Dylan guy?”

“We never met,” the academic couldn’t help but smile. “I did meet a boy, though. The brightest person I ever knew. He knew just about everything—science, philosophy, geography, and poetry. I admit, I was his intellectual inferior, considering I had no patience for anything outside of the sciences. I…” He swallowed as his smile faded. “I admired him. He was a born leader.” Vexen cleared his throat. “So yes. I learned that poetry from him.”

“You suddenly remember a lot,” Demyx pointed out, curious.

“Yes, I…I do,” Vexen nodded. “I suppose it helps when the memories play themselves out right before your eyes.”

Demyx cocked his eyebrow, looking from the boys to Vexen to the boys and back to Vexen. “You don’t mean…”

“Yes,” the scientist said hoarsely. “That boy in the soaked sailor suit is young little Even, meeting his best friend Ansem. I remember, he followed me here because he was concerned the police would find me and report me to my parents. Right now, we’re talking about school, how draconian our headmaster is, exchanging notes...” He sighed. “I’m showing him my ruined diagram of Radiant Garden’s Water Purifier, and he’s showing me his essay comparing Kantian and Sartrian philosophy. All these years later, and _now_ I remember it as clear as day.”

The sitarist narrowed his eyes, as he looked at Even a bit closer. “There is a resemblance…” He smiled. “Isn’t that something? You’re feeling emotions _and_ you met your past self. That’s incredible!”

“Not when you recall how this story ends,” Vexen disagreed, bearing a pained expression. “Because give it a few decades, and those years of friendship will mean nothing. Even though he valued me as his comrade, his confidante, his equal…” He breathed shakily. “…I betrayed him over an intellectual disagreement.” In spite of himself, Vexen laughed. “It’s typical of me, I suppose. You were right. I don’t know what to do with compassion. Even though I demand respect, I’ve never really appreciated it. All I’ve ever wanted was to be right and for everyone to know I was right. Why else would I betray the one man who’s ever respected me?”

“Vexen…” Demyx reached out for Vexen, but the scientist slapped his hand away.

“Bah! _He_ was the fool!” Vexen cursed his old friend. “The idealistic imbecile he was, going on about building a city of light! He thought anyone and anything was worth saving, including me!” He looked away, burning with contempt. “He should have left me to drown…”

“No!” Demyx bellowed, getting to his feet, and standing over the defeated intellectual. “He was right! Everyone is worth saving!”

“Of course you’d still think that,” Vexen hissed. “You’re young. You have hopes and dreams. Well, good news for you, Demyx: I suspect you won’t betray your only friend and banish him to the Dark Realm.”

“Whoa,” the musician couldn’t help but be in awe. “Is that really what you did?”

“Well, I was complicit,” Vexen threw his hands in the air. “It’s a long story.”

“Ah,” Demyx bit his lip, deep in his thoughts. “Even then, you’re worth saving. As cranky and bitter and know-it-all-ish you are, you’re worth saving.”

Vexen was quiet, not wanting to participate in this conversation any further.

Demyx knelt down beside the lost soul and looked him in the eye, even if he didn’t look back. “You’re a smart guy, Vexen. But you’re so blind. Ansem and I, we see the good in you that _you_ can’t. You wanna know why you can’t see that good?”

Vexen didn’t answer.

“Because you’ve given up trying. You’ve let yourself get beaten and battered by every critique, every insult, every bad day...” Demyx paused. “I know how it feels.”

Vexen looked up.

“Trust me, it’s easy to give up. I almost have. Everyday, I screw up some way or another, I’m called a dozen terrible things, and I go bed, beaten up.” Demyx began to feel choked up, but he tried to keep his cool. “I fail and I fail and I fail, over and over and over again.”

“I don’t mean to disappoint you,” Vexen commented. “But this isn’t the most encouraging speech.”

“You know what gets me out of bed the next day?” Demyx leaned closer, staring Vexen down. “The knowledge that even though I’ve screwed up today, the world doesn’t end tomorrow. Life goes on, and I know there’s a chance I can do better.” He wagged his finger at Vexen, and said with confidence, “I don’t give up. No matter how hard life gets, I try and try and try again because even if I fail, I’ll take comfort in the fact I did my damnedest to survive.”

Vexen smiled, his eyes watering.

“You told me that,” Demyx pointed at him. “You believed in me when I couldn’t, even with a massive bovine, minutes away from killing us all.”

The scientist chuckled. “Bolide.” He corrected instinctively.

“So I’m begging you, Vex, believe in yourself like you believed in me. Know that in spite of your fuckups and your flaws, you’re worth saving. Know that people like me or Zexion or Ansem know you’re worth saving. Even if the whole world tells you otherwise, keep trying. Like a wise man once told me…” Demyx put a hand on Demyx’s shoulder. “…don’t go gentle into that good night.”

Vexen couldn’t hold the tears back anymore. He hugged Demyx in a tight embrace. The young man was taken aback by it, but returned it anyway, crying his own tears. For the first time in years, Vexen felt this emotional cocktail of joy mixed with regret, sorrow mixed with hope. He thought of all the times he felt alone and rejected any sign of help or compassion. He remembered all those sleepless nights where he considered just leaving the Organization after another rough day of ridicule. He recalled his friendship with Ansem, and the things he should have said but never had the stomach to. Yet Vexen felt rejuvenated because now he knew he wasn’t alone. Should he see Zexion again, Vexen would thank him a thousand times over for tolerating his experiments. And Ansem, though he may have long succumbed to the darkness, would live on in Vexen’s work. He would not have died in vain! He would be remembered and never, ever forgotten again! As for Demyx…

He pulled away from the young man, his hands on his shoulders. “You’re a good friend, Demyx. I’m…I’m sorry I haven’t treated you as such.”

“It’s cool,” Demyx replied, wiping his tears dry. “I’m sorry I called you a dummy and a stupid-head.”

“Excuse me, kind sirs…”

Vexen turned to find young Even tugging at his tracksuit. Ansem was right behind him.

“We were wondering if you’d take our picture,” Even asked sheepishly, holding out his camera. “To commemorate the day I was saved.”

Ansem squinted, looking up at Vexen. “Are you OK, sir?”

“Me?” Vexen rubbed at his eyes, sniffling. “I’m splendid.” He took the device. “I’ll take your picture. Get together now.”

Ansem gave a toothy smile and put his arm around the shy Even who meekly had his hands behind his back.

“Alright,” Vexen readied the camera. “Say FREEZE! I mean, cheese. Sorry, it’s a…force of habit.” He cleared his throat. “Cheese!”

The camera flashed, and out came a polaroid. With a good deal of shaking, the picture of two friends became clear.

“Thank you,” Even reached for the photograph before his eyes widened in surprise. “Oh no!”

“What is it?” Ansem asked.

“All this time with me drowning and us talking, I forgot. We’re late for school!”

“Oh, man! The headmaster is gonna kill us!” Ansem sprinted off, calling back, “It was nice to meet you!”

“Wait for me!” Even chased him up the stairs, almost clumsily falling after him. “I’m can’t run! I have a respiratory condition!”

Vexen smiled as the two youths ran out of sight before he raised his eyebrows in realization and that smile faded. “I…probably should have warned them about my impending betrayal.”

“Huh,” Demyx smacked his lips. “Is that how time travel works?”

Silence.

Vexen shrugged. “I have no clue.”

Demyx laughed and put his arm around Vexen, as the two walked up the stairwell, intent on finding their way out of here.

***

Once the duo reached the catwalks above, they met a strange sight: a singed Larxene, limping straight towards them.

“Oh,” Vexen said nonchalantly. “Larxene. Hello.”

“Hey,” Larxene greeted, coughing some ashes.

“We thought you were dead,” Demyx pointed out, somehow unsurprised by this development.

“I was,” Larxene replied, before taking out the gummi from her torn denim jacket. “We gonna get out of here or what?”

“Yes,” Vexen looked around. “Fire, fire, fire…” His eyes noted the pipes he clogged with ice, preventing the vat from filling with more water, causing a backup in the purifier’s system. Its various facets were vibrating with a clunky ferocity, bolts on the brink of falling out. “Do you know what else I recall, Demyx?”

“What’s that?” Demyx inquired.

“The great purifier explosion of my youth. Set our city back ten years into a recession, one we wouldn’t recover from until Ansem the Wise was elected leader. And even though it was tucked safely away underground, it was ignited…” He looked at Larxene. “…by a bolt of lightning.”

Larxene smirked and the tossed the gummi to Vexen. She then grabbed one of her knives, observed her surroundings carefully, and settled on a pipe of her choice. Larxene threw the blade like a dart, and it collided with apparatus.

_Clink!_

The whole system gave way with that small burst of electricity, exploding in a flurry of flames. Vexen held the gummi high above him, Larxene to his left and Demyx to his right. The fire made contact with the gummi and sparked a flash of light, sending these Nobodies off to another world.

Yet, somehow, against all odds, they left this destructive inferno feeling the most like Somebodies than they ever had before.

***

A domineering silence presided over The World That Never Was. Only the rain’s delicate fall could be heard.

Xemnas stood atop Naught’s Skyway, awaiting the Heartless Invasion. As expected, Saix stood diligently at his right, Claymore in hand. To his left was Luxord, shuffling and reshuffling his deadly deck of cards.

Below them stood Xaldin and Marluxia guarding the castle gates on the Brink of Despair, armed with lance and scythe respectively. Above them on the Altar of Naught sat Xigbar, who was carefully observing the heavens through the scope of his rifle, anticipating a dark corridor to open any second.

Xemnas heard footsteps behind him. “Lexaeus.” He turned to face his comrade. “You’ve joined us.”

“I figured you’d need me here,” the brave warrior replied. “I can’t do much good in the dungeon.”

“But what about our prisoner?” Saix hissed.

Before Lexaeus could answer, Xigbar proclaimed from above, “THEY’RE HERE!”

Every member followed Xigbar’s alert to the sky, where dark corridors upon dark corridors were opening. And out of each of them came all manner of Heartless, big and small, flying and crawling. Gummi Ships flew out of each opening as countless small fry spread onto the skyscrapers and onto the streets. In the center of it all was a massive portal from which the most Heartless flooded.

Each Organization member settled in their stance, ready to face these overwhelming odds for what could be their last battle.

Calmly, Xemnas unveiled his laser-swords, undaunted by this legion of over a million Heartless. “Comrades,” his mighty voice boomed throughout castle. “Attack!”

And so the forces of Nothing and Darkness clashed in what would be a grueling and near hopeless battle, wrought with glorious feats and devastating hardships.


	9. The Battle

Vexen had his eyes shut, fearing what terrors he and his companions would be forced into this time. Once he was confident the gummi had done its thing, he opened his eyes, slowly taking in his surroundings. Larxene and Demyx stood at his side, this time without any nicks or scratches. They appeared to be in a grimy alleyway, not unlike the one in New York.

“Oh, no,” Larxene groaned. “This place _again_? We’ll never get home at this rate.”

“Wait,” Vexen eyed a dumpster behind them. “See here.” He began to rub vigorously at the scum smudged on the cannister. “If I’m not mistaken, this brand of waste disposal unit is…” An engraved logo was revealed behind the dirt. “… _Nomura Incorporated!_ Our world’s trademarked sanitation company! We did it! We’re home!”

“Yeah!” Demyx cheered, dropping to his knees and passionately kissing the asphalt. “I’ll never take this place for granted again, with its endless night and its bland castle and…”

“…its grimy streets,” Larxene finished for Demyx, her arms crossed.

“…and its grimy streets. I’ll never…” Demyx ceased his kissing, realizing he was in fact kissing grimy asphalt. “Ugh!” He gagged in revulsion, getting back to his feet. “Remind me to shower when we get back to the castle.”

“Yes. Let’s return home,” Vexen led the way out of the alley. “I wonder how Zexion and the others are faring. Oh, the stories they’ll want to…” Once he stepped out onto the street and into the shadow of Memory’s Skyscraper, though, Vexen’s enthusiasm dissolved. “…hear.”

Demyx and Larxene lagged behind the scientist. “What’s the matter, Vexen?” Larxene asked, confused.

“They’re here?” Vexen whimpered in disbelief.

“What? Who’s…” Demyx trailed off as he saw what the frightened academic was seeing. “…here.”

Swarms upon swarms of Heartless populated the Skyline That Never Was, and just ahead legions upon legions of dark demons scurried across the Streets That Never Were. Above them in the heavens, dark corridors were opening and closing, with more and more of these abominations flooding through into our heroes’ home world.

“Maybe we came at the wrong time,” Larxene weakly suggested, awestruck by these devastating odds. “Literally. What if we have to jump further in the future? Or maybe we overshot the present?”

“HYYYAHHHH!”

The trio looked up to find Xigbar charging the Heartless head-on in the skies above, upside-down and guns blazing. Behind him was Xemnas teleporting here and there, setting up various walls and traps, and behind Xemnas was Luxord, soaring on one of his magical playing cards, dealing various decks of doom.

“No, we seem to be in the right time,” Vexen assured Larxene. “It just happens to be a very, very, _very_ bad time.”

***

Things were no different on the Brink of Despair. Soldiers were relentlessly trying to breach the castle’s ground defenses. Marluxia stood valiantly among them, swinging his scythe this way and that. He could only do so much, though, as with every attack from the enemy, the graceful assassin was pushed farther and farther to the edge of the broken-off street. Xaldin flew just above him on a dragon made of his own lances, warding off their airborne foes.

“They just keep on coming,” Marluxia grunted, teetering between solid ground and a bottomless pit.

“Quit your whining,” Xaldin countered as he handily impaled a row of air-soldiers. “Lest you want your last words to be feeble complaining.”

Marluxia guffawed. “Ha! As if they’ll slay me now when I’m not even in my final forACK!” Just like that, with one more blow, the flowery warrior had lost his balance and was going to fall backwards into the abyss…

“Gotcha!” A hand grabbed Marluxia by the arm, tugging him back on solid ground. Much to his relief and then shock, he realized it was…

“Larxene!” He gasped. “Aren’t you supposed to dead?”

“Funny thing about that,” Larxene replied, throwing a dozen knives around her, and eliminating the Heartless surrounding them, at least for now. “That’s not the first time I’ve been asked that today.”

“Huh.” Marluxia squinted at Larxene’s odd garments. “And what are you wearing?”

“Dance, water! Dance!” But before she could answer, a calvary of water guitarists suddenly joined the battle, along with Demyx and Vexen.

“Well, I’ll be…” Vexen said in awe. “I’ve been gone for how long? A day? A week, at most? And now the world’s falling apart…”

A Large Body took aim at Vexen from behind, but a series of lances defeated it before it could make its move. “No thanks to you,” Xaldin growled, landing deftly on the ground beside the scientist. “You chose an interesting time to go on holiday.”

“As if I knew there’d be a Heartless invasion, much less that I’d be sent to the Cretaceous Era!” Vexen spat.

“Dare I even ask?” Marluxia quipped, seamlessly rejoining the fight.

“It’s a long story,” Demyx replied, frantically looking around. “What’s going on?”

“What’s it look like, boy?” Xaldin scoffed. “The Heartless got through the castle’s defenses because said defenses were never activated…”

“…because only _I_ know how to work the machinery,” Vexen realized, an odd gleeful smile spreading on his face. “Aha! You _needed_ me! You actually _need_ me! I knew it! I knew I was useful!”

A Powerwild lunged at Vexen during his celebratory rant before Larxene took it by the head and punted it away. “Yes, yes. We love and cherish you very much. CAN YOU SHUT UP AND COME UP WITH A PLAN?!”

“Right. A plan.” Vexen stroked his chin, concocting a scheme to save the day. “Of the security measures we have, the sonic reverberator we have in the maintenance wing will do us the most good.”

“Sonic whatsit?” Demyx questioned, ducking Bandit’s jumping attack.

“Reverberator. It reflects sound and converts it into an explosive blast if it’s scaled properly,” Vexen explained. “Such a sonic blast will wipe the area of Heartless, or at least even the odds.”

“Sound, huh?” Demyx strummed a few notes. “Count me in.”

“Are you sure?” Vexen asked, concerned.

“Of course. I may be a Water-Boy, but I’m also a Music-Man!”

A string of lightning bolts shot past them, eliminating a row of shadows. “I don’t mean to interrupt your make-out session, but shouldn’t you be hurrying to the castle right about now?”

“Right,” Vexen nodded. “But not without you. With an attack of this magnitude, the reverberator will need some extra power. And you’re our best shot.”

“Alright,” Larxene replied. “Let’s go! It looks like the Heartless have made their way into the castle, so we gotta move!” It was true, as hordes of darkness from the heavens seeped onto the towering structure.

Vexen froze a pathway up to the castle and led the trio up the slippery makeshift incline.

“What?!” Marluxia blurted out. “You’re leaving us?!”

“Cheer up, Flower-Power,” Larxene assured him. “We’ll bail you out in no time.”

“How do you know your plan will work?”

Vexen stopped and faced their skeptics. “Because I’m a scientist. Knowing is my specialty.”

And the heroes charged onward.

***

But early in their quest, the trio faced a dangerous adversary in a humongous Morning Star dropping from the heavens and onto Vexen’s fragile ice bridge.

“Great Scott!” Vexen gasped, rushing mightily to restore the damage done to his frozen creation with a quick dose of Blizzard magic. “A colossal foe!”

“Quit gawking, start…” But Larxene couldn’t finish her bitter insult, the Morning Star slapping Larxene away with a spinning attack. She tumbled off the side of the bridge and towards her doom. Fortunately, were it not for her quick reflexes and fixing a blade into the bridge before she fell into the abyss, Larxene would be no more.

“I know what to do.” Demyx formed an orb of H2O in his hand and slung it at their adversary. “WATERBALL!”

The waterball splashed against the Morning Star, proving to be wholly ineffective.

Demyx and Vexen were silent. “It’s times like this,” the sitarist spoke up. “When I wish I was one of the guys who made things explode.”

The duo screamed as they retreated down the slope, the Morning Star rolling after them. Vexen knew their efforts were hopeless. Any amateur physics professor would tell you that something with the mass of the Morning Star rolling down a slope would, eventually, catch up with the two of them. Such was the way of inertia, a cruel mistress indeed.

“LET THE MOON SHINE DOWN!”

A mighty blast erupted behind Vexen and Demyx, sending the two of them flying a couple of yards away onto their stomachs and eliminating the Morning Star behind them. Vexen turned on his back and eyed their savior.

“Saix?” He asked. “Is that you?”

The blue-haired warrior, hovering in the air high above them, his eyes glowing, looked down on the scientist. “GREETINGS.”

“Er, salutations,” Vexen waved, a bit thrown off. “Thank you for…”

“LET THE MOON SHINE DOWN!”

“…what?”

“PATHETIC WHELP!”

“Excuse me?”

“GREETINGS.”

Vexen narrowed his eyes. “It can’t be…”

Demyx tugged at Vexen’s tracksuit, pointing up at the castle’s ramparts. “Vexen, look!”

And so the scientist did, witnessing a legion of black-cloaked figures leaping off the castle ledges and into the battle.

“I don’t believe it!” Vexen said, awe-struck.

“You better!” Demyx got to his feet with a wide smile. “It’s Organization 26!”

***

“FLAME ON!”

Replaxel leapt off the balcony and into the sprawling battle, chakrams akimbo.

“That should be all of them,” Zexion affirmed, dusting his hands off.

“I gotta tell you, bookworm,” Axel smirked, watching the replicas go to town on the Heartless in the skies and on the ground. “This idea—not half-bad.”

“Thanks. That should buy us some time.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. Something good, hopefully. We just have to…”

Suddenly, a Darkball seeped through the wall behind them and charged at them, giving neither Axel nor Zexion time to dodge.

“Zexion, watch…” But Axel trailed off as a mighty tomahawk flew by them, striking the Darkball down.

“I have to admit,” Lexaeus strode past the duo, still frozen with shock. “When I let you go, I didn’t expect you’d unleash the Uncanny Valley.”

“It’s a serviceable plan, no?” Zexion regained his composure, as well as his pride.

“The fight’s not over yet,” the warrior sternly reminded the young man. “In case you haven’t noticed, the Heartless have infiltrated the castle.”

“He’s right,” Axel said, unveiling his own chakrams. “I’ve got the urge to blow things up.”

“Alright, we just have to…” Zexion looked down from their perch. “Wait, that’s an ice bridge.”

“The work of the Heartless, no doubt,” Lexaeus dismissed the odd occurrence.

But Zexion peered a bit more. “No. Something like that could only be the work of…” His face lit up as he saw a platinum blonde figure in a red tracksuit standing alongside a young man in a white tee-shirt. “I’ll be damned!”

“What?” Axel spoke up, concerned. “What is it?”

“It’s Vexen! He’s alive!” Zexion cheered. “By God, he’s alive!”

***

“Well, it’s not 26 exactly,” Demyx reconsidered. “Maybe 24? 23?”

“Enough of that!” Vexen pulled Demyx up to his feet. “We’ve got to get going!”

The two ran back up the slope, where Larxene was pulling herself back onto solid ice. “You took care of the thing?”

“Yes, with some help,” Vexen answered. “Come on!”

The trio entered the castle, prompting Vexen to lecture to his comrades. “The maintenance room should be a few floors up. We just have to get there in one piece.”

“BE GONE!”

Saix’s Claymore flew past them and into a group of Minute Bombs, triggering an explosion. Stunned from the blast, our heroes had no time to react when Saix landed before them.

“So, you’re alive?” he keenly observed.

“Oh,” Vexen coughed from the resulting dust cloud. “You must be the _real_ Saix.”

“Explain it, then,” Saix demanded. “Did you fake your death and desert the Organization? That warrants a…”

“Five-week suspension, we know,” Larxene cut the Lunar Diviner off and ran past him, Vexen and Demyx right behind her. “We’ll chat later, OK?”

“But…”

“Stay frosty, man!” Demyx called back before retracting, “Wait, Vex, is that your thing?”

“I don’t have a thing!” Vexen reprimanded the boy. “HURRY!”

Saix stood alone, confused beyond belief. But he had little time to remain so, as Heartless after Heartless were making their way into the castle’s lobby.

***

Xemnas somersaulted into the air, destroying a series of Wyverns in spectacular fashion. However, as mighty a warrior the Superior was, he was outmatched, for behind him was a squadron of Wizards readying their staves…

“BULLSEYE!”

A flurry of bullets shot past Xemnas and into the Wizards, destroying them. Xemnas turned to find the one-eyed sniper with a smoking gun.

“Thank you, Xigbar,” Xemnas said solemnly.

“Huh?” Another voice behind Xemnas sounded. The Superior turned to find it was _also_ his one-eyed sniper with a smoking gun. “I didn’t do anything.”

“But…” Xemnas looked between the two Xigbars. “You destroyed those Heartless…”

“AS IF!” Both Xigbars said, much to one’s confusion. “What in Sam Hill is going on here?”

“ARE YOU READY TO PLAY THE GAME?”

Time froze. In an instant, a series of playing cards sliced and diced their way through the surrounding Gargoyles, leading to their demise. Time resumed and the Organization’s gambler stood at the center of the destruction.

“Wow. That must’ve been a good hand, huh, Luxord?” Xigbar congratulated his comrade.

“ARE YOU READY TO PLAY THE GAME?”

“…you said that already.”

“Go fish, you bastard!” Luxord slashed through the Air Soldier he’d been dueling for the past five minutes. “Hello, gents. You called?” He eyed his lookalike across the way. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“I ALWAYS WIN IN THE END.”

“I believe I have an inkling…” Xemnas felt two figures brush past him at just the right time, eliminating the Air Pirates that were ready to attack. One was another Xemnas, and the other…

“Xaldin?” Xigbar asked.

“No,” Xemnas clarified. “A _replica_ of Xaldin.” He eyed the streets below them. “A whole Organization of replicas.”

***

Indeed, joining Marluxia and Xaldin on the streets were Replaix, Replaxeus and Marluxica, helping Marluxia and Xaldin cut through the Heartless army’s foot-soldiers.

“Is that…” Marluxia squinted. “…another me?”

“Don’t question it,” Xaldin hissed. “An ally is an ally.”

“GET READY TO SMELL THE ROSES!” Marluxica proclaimed.

“What…?” Malruxia was revolted. “I don’t say that!” A Bouncywild almost snook up on the assassin, but he was able to dodge its attack and throw a cavalcade of vines at the cursed ape. “Now who’s pushing up daisies?”

Xaldin groaned audibly, but all seemed well as the replicas worked in harmony with their real counterparts. Xigbar and Repligbar shot their enemies from afar, back to back; Xemnas and Replemnas eliminated their foes in tune with one another’s spins and attacks; and Luxord and Repluxord played their games effortlessly, defeating their adversaries with little trouble at all.

***

Vexen and company turned the corner around another corridor, searching desperately for the door to the security room. “It’s got to be here somewhere,” the scientist muttered, cursing the castle’s monotonous interior décor. “Blast this sterile architecture!”

“It wouldn’t hurt to hang up some paintings,” Demyx suggested. “Maybe a sign to point where you’re going…”

“Great, sport,” Larxene said sarcastically. “You could mention it at the next faculty meeting.”

The trio turned another corner, only to be met with a pleasant surprise…

“Zexion!”

“Vexen!” The apprentice smiled before embracing his mentor in an embrace. “You’re alive! How are you alive?!”

“Would you believe the gummi was _not_ a weapon,” Vexen excitedly explained, having missed these long intellectual discussions. “But a _time machine_?”

“Impossible!” Zexion replied giddily.

“Quite the opposite. You see, it sent us back to the Cretaceous Era…”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a world that happened to inhabit dinosaurs?”

“I suspected that briefly but my suspicions were confirmed when I met my _past self_ …”

Axel let the eggheads go at it and sauntered over to Larxene. “Dinosaurs, huh? Sounds like you’ve had a fulfilling Wednesday.”

Larxene rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“And how about those threads?”

“I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.”

Feeling left out, Demyx greeted Lexaeus. “Wazzup, Rocky?”

Lexaeus grunted in response, putting an end to that short-lived conversation.

“…and it was this peculiar catharsis…” Vexen realized he was going on a tangent. “Oh, what am I doing? We have to get to the security room!”

“I know where to go!” Zexion dug into his cloak. “I always carry the pamphlet map they gave us on Orientation Day, just for reference.”

“Nice one, bookworm,” Axel cheered as Vexen scanned the map for their location.

“Here!” Vexen pointed to the map. “And by here, I mean a ways over _there_!” He pointed to the corridor heading eastwards. “We must make haste!”

Our heroes ran down the hallway, racing past door after door, until they finally settled on their desired room. “Here it is!” Vexen tried to open the door but was immediately met with adversity. “Wha…it’s locked. It’s locked…because I have the key in my room! WHY?!”

“No worries,” Demyx consoled him. “We can just rush back to your room and grab them real quick?”

“Are you kidding me?” Larxene spat. “It was a grand quest just finding _this_ room. By the time we get there and back, we’ll be Heartless bait!”

“I just need time to think…” Vexen said hectically.

An explosion sounded off a few rooms down.

“Those better be my illegal fireworks and _not_ the Heartless,” Axel muttered.

“You have illegal fireworks?” Zexion blurted incredulously, before his eyes widened in realization. “ _That’s_ what I’m hearing on Friday nights. You know, I only have so much time to read…”

“THINK. THINKING,” Vexen waved his hands frantically. “I’M TRYING TO _THINK_!”

“Maybe we can use the _fireworks_ to blast open the door,” Demyx brainstormed.

“I don’t think so,” Axel countered.

“Oh, _c’mon_ ,” Larxene snapped venomously. “I think now would be a time to forget by your pyro-addiction.”

“It’s not just _that_. What if they actually _did_ blow up? It wouldn’t be worth it to run all the way there and check for nothing.”

“Man, I wish the Love Monkey was here,” Demyx lamented. “He would know what to do…”

“The Love…” Zexion narrowed his eyes. “…what?”

“ENOUGH!” Vexen exploded, turning to face all of them. “I AM THE BRAINS OF THIS OPERATION! BUT HOWEVER SMART I MAY BE, I NEED PEACE AND QUIET TO _THINK_! SOLUTIONS DON’T EFFORTLESSLY FLOW FROM MY BRAIN ONTO THE FABRIC OF REALITY! SO IF YOU WOULD PLEASE QUIT YOUR BLUBBERING AND LET. ME. _THINK!!!!_ ”

Dead silence.

Lexaeus punched the door with titanic force, sending it flying into the room for a good ten yards.

Vexen stared in shock.

“Huh. I figured that would work.” Lexaeus explained bluntly. He walked into the security room.

“I was gonna suggest something like that,” Axel added, following Lexaeus.

“Yeah, yeah. Course you were,” Larxene scoffed, right behind him.

“I believe you, Axel,” Demyx said, sauntering behind her.

“I’m sorry…did you say, ‘Love Monkey?’” Zexion questioned after the sitarist.

Vexen heaved a beleaguered sigh and entered the security room, ready to get to work.

“Alright. The sonic reverberator should be… _there_!” Vexen pointed to some overly complicated piece of machinery in the corner. “First, we have to power it…”

“YOU _WILL_ STAND TRIAL!”

Vexen turned, frightened by this new obstacle, only to find a blue blur charging towards him…

…and a red blur coming to his aid before him. “What’s your deal, man?” Axel pushed Saix away, effectively putting an end to his attempted assault.

“My _deal_ is you’re aiding and abetting traitors,” Saix cursed back at his old friend.

“Traitors?” Zexion scoffed. “We’re trying to stop the invasion!”

“I wasn’t asking you,” Saix hissed, turning back to his old friend. “Regardless, you’d incriminate yourself to save a prisoner, despite my efforts to save you?”

“They had you imprisoned?” Vexen asked his apprentice.

“Well, we thought we _killed_ you,” Zexion shrugged. “It was all a series of comical misunderstandings.”

“I see nothing funny about this,” Saix snapped bitterly. “Why do you feel intent on throwing away our friendship?”

“Oh, _c’mon_ ,” Axel rolled his eyes. “As if you could be my only friend. Get over yourself.”

“You’ve changed, Axel. And not for the better.” Saix dramatically clenched his fist.

“Yeah. I’ve changed,” Axel agreed. “I understand that I don’t have to solely rely on you to feel like I’m worth anything.” He glanced at Zexion. “I can have more than one friend. Sorry to break it to you, Saix.”

Saix was silent. “I see.”

“This was beautiful,” Vexen feigned a smile, before promptly freaking out. “BUT CAN WE POWER UP THIS DAMNED MACHINE BEFORE WE ALL…”

“LOOK OUT!” Demyx cried, pointing at the window.

For indeed, a gigantic Heartless gummi ship was crashing through the glass panes, creating a tremendous impact stunning them all and wreaking terrible destruction.

***

Outside the castle, things were only worsening. Even with the Organization’s slightly improved odds, they were no match for the great masses of darkness. While the dark corridors had ceased to open, there remained one humongous portal from which creatures both plentiful and strong flooded.

Repaldin was scorched by a series of Flame Cores, sending his burnt husk to the streets below beside the real Xaldin.

“LOVE..IS…FOR THE…WEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAK…” And so the replica perished.

Repligbar fared no better, as a dozen Darkballs withstood his bullets and ran him through. Though it was too late for him, Replaxel acted quickly, and activated his self-destruct measure.

“FEEL THE HEAT!” The replica blew himself up in flurry of dancing flames, taking out that group of Heartless.

But there were more, overpowering Marluxica on the street and Repluxord in the skies. Even Replemnas, who mirrored the powers of the strongest of all of them, succumbed to an Invisible’s blade.

The tide was turning to a most dire end.

***

_“We have to hurry!”_

Vexen winced in pain. Even opening his eyes proved to be a Herculean task.

_“I know you can make it!”_

He coughed, the dust from the crash caught in his lungs.

_“Don’t give up!”_

A figure stood over him, one Vexen thought to be… “Ansem?”

“Holy crap! He’s awake, guys!” Demyx cried to the others. “Vexen, are you alright?”

“Yes,” Vexen snapped out of it. “I’m fine.” He saw the Heartless wreckage wedged into the room, damaging nearly every single thing, including… “The sonic reverberator!” Vexen rushed over to the machine, frantically analyzing its remains.

Meanwhile, Axel struggled to his feet, but was aided by both Zexion and Saix. Then there was Lexaeus, tending to an unconscious Larxene.

“She was hit hard by the ship,” Lexaeus explained solemnly. “I don’t know if I can wake her up.”

“Oh, crap,” Demyx ran his hands through his hair. “We were _right there_ and now the reverminator is destroyed.”

Vexen’s face lit up. “Reverberator. And not quite. It can still spread sound, but it won’t be able to convert it to an explosion…”

“…so basically, it spreads soundwaves but with little to no impact,” Zexion reasoned.

“Not unless those waves carry something other than sound. Perhaps fire…?” Vexen looked to Axel.

“I’d love to,” Axel grinned, despite himself. “But I’m not feeling too hot now.”

“How about your water magic?” Saix asked Demyx.

“It’s not that strong to begin with,” he replied nervously. “Why do you think I fall back on a group of water-back-up singers to help me out?”

“Larxene’s incapacitated, so her lightning magic is out of the question,” Zexion noted. “Vexen, that leaves you as our most gifted mage. Your ice magic could do the trick.”

“It’ll freeze them, but it won’t eliminate them. My spells only last for so long,” Vexen rubbed his temples, trying to think of a solution. “Damn me, for being so weak! There must be something, _something_ we can do!”

“The answer’s in there somewhere,” Demyx assured his newfound friend, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a smart guy, Vexen. Remember that.”

Reinvigorated by this trust, Vexen began to brainstorm, thinking desperately of each of their different talents, their options, the constants, and the variables. He strained himself, quickly shuffling from plan to plan, the Organization relying on him to survive another day.

His eyes widened in realization. “Zexion: hypothesis.” Vexen straightened his posture pacing with confidence. “What activated the gummi to begin with?”

“An exposure to intense heat,” Zexion answered.

“So we thought,” Vexen countered excitedly. “We’ve travelled haplessly from time period to time period, to the past and to the future, believing we needed a powerful heat source to do so. But we never considered that the gummi’s censor was not only reacting to heat…”

“…but a dramatic change in temperature,” his apprentice concluded, catching onto his mentor’s lecture.

“Exactly! The gummi only activated when there was a sudden _increase_ in temperature. But what we never even considered was what happened when there was a sudden _decrease_ in temperature.”

“So…” Demyx attempted to keep up. “…your ice magic can work?”

“That’s the issue! It won’t! I’ve always been a man of science, never of magic. My spells are weak, and if they’ll have any impact on the gummi, it’ll transport only _me_ to another time period.”

“But if your spells were reverberated with this,” Zexion gestured to the machine. “They would be spread on a grand scale…”

“…activating the gummi and swiftly sending the Heartless to another time period!” Vexen jumped with joy. “By Jiminy, I’ve done it! I’ve saved us!”

Larxene groaned with pain.

“You speak too soon,” Lexaeus said gravely.

“She’s the catalyst,” Vexen explained, kneeling down beside Lexaeus and presiding over her. “Without her electrical capabilities, we won’t be able to power up the device.”

“C’mon, Larxene,” Demyx plead with her. “Wake up…”

***

A series of muffled voices. Larxene couldn’t hear any of them from the abyss. Slowly falling into the darkness, she only felt one familiar voice reach her.

_“Throwing in the towel is still an option. How about it?”_

Larxene faded into the stygian depths.

_“I won’t give up…not now…NOT EVER!”_

A ray of lightning illuminated the darkness, and Larxene ascended from the abyss with a flare, from the brink of death back to the realm of the living.

***

Larxene sat up with a conviction, remembering Vexen’s final demand before the crash, sending her most powerful lightning bolt to the reverberator. With this boost of energy, the machine was up and running.

“That should do it!” Vexen cheered.

“Cool!” Demyx added. “Now do your ice stuff and let’s get this done with.”

“It’s not as easy as that.”

Demyx’s smile faded. “What?”

“If I were to do it here, we’d be sent in time with them.” Vexen looked up at the masses leaking through the portal in the sky. “I have to travel right in the eye of the storm.”

“But what about you?” Zexion asked, concerned. “Won’t you be caught in the blast?”

Vexen was silent.

“Oh, no.” Demyx shook his head. “There has to be another option…”

“I’m afraid not,” Vexen replied somberly.

“But we just got back here! Not to mention we were almost shot and eaten and blown up a few times along the way! God knows where that thing will send you if it takes you with it!”

“ _I know!_ But it’s a risk I have to take!”

“But Vexen…”

“Listen to me, boy!” Vexen grabbed Demyx by the shoulders, staring him straight in the eye. “If there was any reason Ansem saved my life all those years ago, it was because he believed I was good, and I could do great good! There’s no better time to prove that than now.” He began to feel choked up, so Vexen returned to the cool and calm analysis of the situation. “So when I cast my spell up there, I need you to play the loudest note you can right at the reverberator. That will amplify my magic and…” Vexen exhaled nervously. “…and the day will be saved. Do you understand me, Demyx?”

Demyx was quiet.

“Demyx!”

“I understand,” he spoke up, his eyes watering. “Just tell me when.”

Vexen smiled weakly, stepping away from Demyx and looking to the rest of their makeshift team. “If I don’t make it, Zexion, please…”

“I’ll continue our work,” Zexion said weakly. “Good luck.”

Axel feebly saluted the scientist. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Vexen then looked to Larxene. “Don’t die out there…” She tried to speak past her pain. “…or I swear, I’ll kill the hell out of you.”

One last time, he looked at Demyx. “Demyx…thank you.”

Demyx rubbed at his eyes. “For what?”

Vexen smiled somberly, a single tear falling down his cheek. “For teaching me I was worth saving.” He pulled Demyx into an embrace, eternally grateful that though the end seemed near, Vexen would not feel alone as he once was.

Saix looked at this pathetic show of “friendship,” unimpressed. “As touching as this is, how are you going to get there in time?”

“Well, I was thinking maybe an ice bridge,” Vexen considered. “But that might take an exorbitant amount of time, not to mention exhaust my magic by the time I get there, so I’m not sure…” Lexaeus lifted Vexen with one hand and aimed him towards the Heartless portal through the gaping hole the Heartless ship left. “Wait! What are you doing?”

But it was too late. Lexaeus had thrown Vexen like a football into the heavens, the scientist screaming all the way there.

Stretching his shoulder, Lexaeus turned around to find his colleagues stunned by his athletic effort. “What? I may have forgotten my past life but I’m confident I played quarterback for State.”

And so the Organization watched Vexen fly into the sky, depending on him to save them all.

***

Vexen flew with great velocity towards the heart of darkness, nearing the zenith of Lexaeus’s throw. Now was the time.

Surrounded by all kinds of treacherous enemies, he grabbed the gummi from his pocket, and flung it before him. Then, syphoning every bit of his strength, recalling the trials and tribulations that led him to this moment, remembering his friends, new and old…

Vexen cast the spell. “FREEEZE!”

Demyx strummed his sitar with all his might, playing a rocking note right at the reverberator. This triggered the machine, blasting out a multitude of soundwaves from the castle.

And just in time, as at the center of it, Vexen’s spell had worked. His measly Blizzard spell, at first encompassing only him, spread like wildfire, eventually encompassing the entire world with its cold winds and snow flurries.

Vexen squinted past the snowstorm of his own making, and saw the gummi’s censor activate, a white light sparking in its center. The light was so bright, in fact, it lit up the entire Skyline That Never Was, if only for a moment.

He couldn’t help but laugh as he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact.

_A city of light. That old devil would be proud._

A flash of white light spread throughout the entire city. Demyx and the others took shelter in the room, under tables and behind machinery. In the sky, Luxord acted quickly and summoned a sizeable playing card, behind which he, Xemnas and Xigbar took shelter. Xaldin and Marluxia only had to look up to realize they had to take cover, and so they dove into the closest building there was.

The light cleared, and there was not a single Heartless in sight. Only the first snowfall in the history of The World That Never Was, gently coating every street, every building, and every castle rampart. It was a tranquil sight, the calm after the storm. The battle was won, the Heartless were defeated…

…and Vexen was nowhere to be found.


	10. The Aftermath

A cold breeze flew through the castle’s maintenance area, stirring Demyx to open his eyes. It was done. The Heartless were gone, or at least most of them. The stragglers that were left behind were feebly retreating into their dark corridors, for even demonic minions such as them know when they are beaten.

Vexen had won the battle for them.

“Does it have to be this cold?” Axel shivered as he stood up. “Talk about overkill.”

“It did the trick,” Zexion said, awestruck. “They’re gone. The Heartless are retreating.”

“That’s great,” Larxene interjected. “But what about…”

“He’s gone,” Saix answered the question before it was asked. “There’s no way he couldn’t have been caught in that blast. Vexen’s…”

“…alive!” Demyx exclaimed, pointing towards the horizon.

“Really?” Zexion perked up, looking out through the gaping hole in the wall.

“Possibly maybe. See that red blur over there?” The sitarist pointed to a spec descending slowly in front of Memory’s Skyscraper. “That’s his tracksuit from the 80’s! That’s gotta be him. C’mon!” Already, he was sprinting out of the room, the others trailing behind.

***

The group reached Memory’s Skyscraper’s plaza, but they didn’t find Vexen waiting for them. Rather, just the torn remnants of his tracksuit.

Demyx fell to his knees, clutching the torn fabric. “Oh, no…”

Zexion knelt down beside the musician, looking at what was left of his mentor. “Oh, Vexen. You picked a fine time to do a selfless act. You stupid, stupid genius…”

Lexaeus looked down grimly, mourning the lost. Axel tried to do the same, even if the climate wasn’t doing him any favors.

Larxene bit her lip, feeling that weird buzz in her gut—the same one she felt when she met Elrena. She didn’t like the feeling, but she acted on it, nevertheless.

“C’mon, sport,” Larxene put her hand on Demyx’s shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

“Not so fast.”

Everyone looked up to find their Superior descending from the heavens, with Xigbar and Luxord at his side.

“Xemnas,” Saix bowed down to greet their master. “You’ve survived.”

“Yeah, yeah, save the bootlicking for later,” Xigbar waved the Moon Man off. “We want answers.”

“For example,” Luxord shuffled a deck of cards. “Why have the dead risen?”

“Why is our prisoner out taking a stroll?” Xigbar glared at Zexion.

“And what has become of our dear colleague Vexen?” Xemnas asked in his signature monotone.

Our heroes looked between each other, as if to shift the duty of telling this long story to someone else.

“Well,” Demyx spoke up. “I think I can explain…” He unveiled his sitar. “…via lengthy rock opera.”

Xemnas blinked. “It won’t be the worst thing that’s befallen us today.”

And so Demyx began to play their ballad.

***

“ _…and in a mighty flash of light/Vexen rid us of the Heartless plight/And left us in a wonderland dusted with…”_ Demyx fished for a rhyme. “ _…white_.” He cleared his throat. “Because it’s snowing, see? And snow is white, so…I’m not really good with this stuff on the fly.”

“We get it,” Xigbar pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated and much in need of a drink.

“So yeah, that’s what happened.” Demyx wasn’t sure what was left to do, so he did a quick bow and stepped aside.

“Hm,” Xemnas stroked his chin, deep in contemplation. “Vexen gave way to this conflict occurring in the first place, his absence costing us dearly. Yet, he managed to return just in time, near single-handedly saving the Organization.” He was silent. “Oh, well. Let’s return to the castle.”

Xemnas began his stride back to headquarters.

“That’s it?” Larxene blurted out in disbelief. “’Oh, well?’ If it weren’t for Vexen, we’d all be dead!”

“And if he were here, I’d thank him,” Xemnas replied nonchalantly. “But he’s left us. Heartbreaking, really. Saix, what does a selfless sacrifice warrant an Organization member?”

Saix cracked out the Organization’s Terms and Conditions: Pocket Edition and flipped through its many pages. “An honorary plaque in the lobby.”

“Honorary plaque it is. Come now. It’s getting awfully late…”

“I don’t believe it,” Zexion scoffed, unable to hide his disgust. “Even when he’s saved your sorry lives, you can’t manage to give Vexen even a morsel of appreciation.”

“Should the traitor really be speaking?” Saix said snobbishly.

“Oh, lay off it, man,” Axel rolled his eyes. “He’s not even a traitor because Vexen’s alive.” He paused. “At least he _was_.”

“Still,” Luxord pondered, fanning himself with one of his own cards. “You did release a prisoner. That’s against Organization regulations, no?”

“But that doesn’t count if he’s wrongfully imprisoned!” Zexion countered, furious.

“Oh, can we just agree to forget the technical speak and die in bed, for God’s sake?” Xigbar groaned.

“No, we’re talking about this! Vexen is due some respect!”

“I’ll be sure to ask Marluxia to leave some flowers on his grave,” Saix sassed, not even looking the bookworm in the eye.

“Why you…” Zexion lunged at Saix, though he was held back by Lexaeus and Axel. “…temperamental, elitist, self-righteous sycophant!”

“Ooo, Shy Guy’s got a temper!” Xigbar wise-cracked. “Why are you getting so hyper?” Larxene kicked Xigbar in the shin. “Argh! What the hell was that for?!”

“No particular reason,” Larxene said casually. “I just felt like it.”

“But you can’t _feel_ anything.”

“I can feel what I want, bitch!”

“Friends! Colleagues! Contemporaries!” Luxord pled with the rising chaos. “Infighting is against the rules! We shouldn’t break the rules!”

“Piffle to the rules!” Zexion hissed.

Luxord gasped, clutching his chest.

“Just like your mentor,” Xemnas shook his head. “As disrespectful as ever.”

“Well, maybe he has a point,” Axel spoke up.

“Axel!” Saix snapped. “Keep it to yourself, for your sake!”

“Shove off!”

“No, you!”

“Kick me again, you psycho-bitch, I dare you!”

“I can do more than kick, Jack, lemme tell you…”

“But…but… _the rules_!”

“Order! Order!”

“ENOUGH!” One voice rose over all the others, and each head turned to Demyx, standing with authority atop the stairs to Memory’s Skyscraper. It was definitely the loudest they have ever heard the youth speak, effectively putting an end to all their quarrels.

“Enough!” Demyx repeated, somewhat shocked they were listening to him. “I can’t believe you. Vexen off and sacrifices him, and the moment you guys decide to grow back your emotions, it’s all rage and fury directed at each other. Can’t Vexen’s death be about Vexen? Would it hurt to acknowledge him just this once, even if he’s not here to appreciate it? But no, you have to argue and shin-kick and cry about the rules—this explains it.”

“Explains what?” Xemnas inquired.

“The low morale! Like, holy moly! No wonder Vexen felt disrespected. He was the lightning rod for all your pent-up issues! And now that he’s gone, you just take it out on each other! Yet, you can’t even bring yourselves to admit you needed him. Whether it was because he saved your lives or served as your spite dumpster, you can’t get over your huge egos!” Demyx lifted his sitar in the air, speaking confidently and triumphantly. “But Vexen, as self-centered and egotistical he was, managed to get over himself to save us all. In fact, he’s done it multiple times. If it weren’t for his brains, Larxene and I would never have even left dinosaur times and you would have been goners for sure. He managed to be a better friend than any of you.”

“Friend?” Saix said with disdain, not liking the taste of the word.

“You’re damn right! Not like you would know anything about friends, considering the one friend you have doesn’t even want you to cover up for him!” Demyx laughed despite himself. “Good thing, too, because if he let you, he never would have let Zexion go and they never would have let out Organization 26!”

Luxord narrowed his eyes. “Organization 26?”

“The replicas! Like, they were a bit funky and glitchy and kept saying the same stuff over and over but they _saved_ you! And whose idea was the replicas? _Vexen’s_.” Demyx nodded, eyes reddening just a bit. “And now he’s gone. So next time something like this happens, you’re gonna be sad you didn’t thank him today because you _need_ him.” He lowered his head. “We _all_ needed him.”

Silence presided over the plaza.

“So…” Demyx’s voice had become meeker, sadder even. “Vexen, I know you can’t hear this but…” He exhaled, melancholic. “…thank you.”

A flash of light encompassed the area, blinding them all for a short moment. Once the light cleared, there stood a man with overgrown hair and a shaggy beard, dressed in rags and carrying a walking stick. Everyone was still, bewildered and confused.

“Damn it all!” cursed the stranger. “It’s snowing! It can’t be…” He trailed off as he got a good look at the Organization and the Organization a good look at him.

“…Vexen?” Zexion asked, dumbstruck.

The stranger blinked. “Zexion?” He began to laugh, growing steadily out of his control. “Larxene? Lexaeus?” He turned around. “Demyx?” The man cheered. “Ha! I’ve done it! I made it home!”

Demyx’s morose mourning was replaced with jovial relief, as he ran down the steps and ensnared the mad scientist in a hug. “You’re alive! Holy crap, you’re alive!”

“I’ll be damned,” Larxene smirked, unable to hide her smile.

“I can’t believe it,” Zexion joined the celebration. “I mean, I want to but…how did you come back?”

“It’s elementary, Zexion.” From his filthy rags, Vexen took out the gummi that started this all. “It took some doing, but I managed to bend this unpredictable technology to my will!” He paused. “After about ten years’ worth of failing.”

“It took you ten years to get back here?” Demyx asked, horrified.

“Something like that, but I had many a fond adventure.” Vexen began to tell the story of his extraordinary return. “I met so many a spectacular character. There was Chicken Little and Pecos Bill and Michael Eisner and Yozora…”

“We get it,” Larxene cut him off while she could. “You tried very hard to get here and now you’re here. Tell us about it in your memoirs.”

“No one’s writing any memoirs,” Xemnas approached the scientist, putting an end to this celebration. “Until we understand all the facts.”

Vexen straightened his posture and cleared his throat. “Of course. I’ve supposed I’ve been keeping you for a decade.”

“A day.”

“Well, a decade for me,” Vexen wiped at his lip. “What do you want to know?”

“You disobeyed the conditions of your suspension, conducted your own experiments, went on a time-travelling adventure, left us vulnerable to attack…”

Saix was frantically flipping through the Organization’s Terms and Conditions. “Not going to lie but he’s veering towards execution with these charges,” he whispered to Axel.

“…returned to save us…”

“OK, maybe down to community service…”

“…deserted us again…”

“OK, back to execution.”

“…taking the enemies you inadvertently brought here with you. A dramatic irony.”

Axel smirked and whispered to his old friend, “What’s the penalty for dramatic irony?”

“Let’s see…” But Saix glared at Axel, realizing the jab, and closing the book.

“Ah,” Vexen nodded. “Those are indeed the facts, albeit in short form. I have repeatedly violated the Organization’s rules and regulations. I have disobeyed your orders out of a simple desire to prove my worth. Immature, I know.” He looked down somberly for a moment. “I have regrets. But it isn’t the desertion or the treason or the time travel…”

“Then what is your regret?”

“That I felt the need to rely so heavily on your approval. All of you.” Vexen gestured at the Organization around him. “I just wanted your respect. For you to realize how much I’m worth to our operation. I’m by far the smartest member here, yet you disparage me at every turn. Why would I want your acknowledgement? You intellectually inferior thugs? Why do you matter to me more than…me?” He smiled. “That was my folly. You _don’t_. I don’t have to stand around and take your…your…”

“Shit! Take your shit!” Larxene called from behind him.

“Yes, thank you, Larxene,” Vexen cleared this throat. “I don’t have to stand around and take your shit! Because you need me! You’ve always needed me!”

Zexion nervously whispered to his mentor, “Maybe you should cool it a bit…”

“I’m always cool! Frozen, really!” Vexen turned his barrage back to the Superior. “And that’s all I need to know. You need me, I don’t need you to say it because the time will come, just like today, when you’ll turn to me for answers. _That’s enough for me._ ”

Xemnas was silent. “I see. Since you’ve made it clear how you don’t need our respect, I suppose I’ll rescind my thanks.”

“Yes, you should. Rescind your…” Vexen paused. “Thanks?”

“You’ve saved us, Vexen, and I cannot ignore exemplary work.” Xemnas tilted his head. “But if you would like me to…”

“Well, some attention could do,” Vexen reached out. “Maybe a reward. A compensation for all my years as a doormat. A debt that has to be repaid.”

“Ask for munny,” Demyx whispered.

“Don’t listen to him, Vexen,” Zexion countered. “Ask for munny _for the research division_.”

“Just ask for a drink,” Larxene pitched in. “Lord knows I fucking need one.”

“A jacket!” Axel yelped out. “I can really do with a jacket right about now.!”

Vexen raised his hand, signaling to the others he made his decision. “Xemnas, I would appreciate it if you would….” He closed his eyes and sighed somewhat nervously. “…greenlight my replica program.”

“Again with the replicas?” Xigbar laughed. “You and your stupid vanity projects…”

“Come now,” Luxord crossed his arms. “Let’s give Vexen a fair shake. I do believe he’s earned it.”

“Please, Xemnas,” Vexen asked. “This could change the whole scope of our operation for the better.”

Xemnas was deep in his thoughts. “I’m not sure…”

“Oh, come on!” Zexion couldn’t help but interject. “You saw them in action! If it weren’t for the replicas, we would have been overtaken ages before Vexen did his, uh…special move.”

“That may be, Zexion, but they _were_ defeated eventually. They simply aren’t battle-ready…”

“ _Yet._ They’re not battle-ready _yet_ ,” Zexion argued. “I’ve worked with Vexen on these for ages and I _know_ their potential. It’s why I _knew_ they’d be effective when I let them out. You just have to be patient.”

“I agree with Zexion.” All heads turned to none other than Saix.

Axel chuckled. “Um…you _what?_ ”

“I agree with Zexion. I wasn’t able to see much of the replicas in battle but they were convincing, no? Mildly unsettling, yes, but we didn’t notice them lurking in our ranks for some time.” Saix shrugged. “I hate to admit it but…they worked.”

Zexion blinked. “Saix, I’m not sure what to say…”

Axel cut the bookworm off. “I’d quit it now. He’s never in _this_ good a mood. Take it while you can.”

And so Zexion clammed up.

“Hm,” Xemnas stroked his chin. “I want a closer look at one of these replicas before I agree to anything.”

“Excellent!” Vexen exclaimed. “Zexion, fetch a replica from the lab!”

Zexion’s eyes widened.

“Well? Go on, Zexion!”

“Well, um, the funny thing is I, uh…released _all_ of them to help out with the fight that was going on…” Zexion nervously explained.

“OK, and?”

“I’m pretty sure they’re all scrap metal by now. Sorry.”

“Not all of them.” Two familiar figures came lurking out of an alleyway dragging a third figure behind them.

“Xaldin and Marluxia,” Xigbar greeted. “Whaddaya know? You’re alive.”

“Barely,” Xaldin rasped. “That damned snowstorm spread through the building we took cover in. We would have frozen to death…”

“…if it weren’t for our friend ‘Lexaeus.’” Marluxia threw down the remnants of Replexaeus. “Say what you want about Vexen’s replicas, they make pretty good meat shields.” He blinked. “Why is Vexen alive?”

Xemnas glanced at the sturdy replica of their Organization’s own No. 5. “Very realistic, durable, powerful, I imagine…”

“Yes,” Vexen nodded. “Very powerful.”

“Is no one going to explain why Vexen is here?” Marluxia asked again, having faded into the background.

Xemnas ceased his analysis. “Alright. You have my permission to pursue this project.”

Vexen was dumbstruck, unable to put a reaction into words. The same could not be said for his colleagues.

“Yeah!” Demyx hooted, jumping in the air. “Way to go Vex!”

“We’ve done it, old friend!” Zexion clapped Vexen on the back, ecstatic. “We’re going to change the world!”

“I…” Vexen chuckled nervously. “Thank you. I’m…very grateful, Xemnas.”

“Yes, yes,” Xemnas waved him off. “Just please shave. And shower. And put some intact clothes on.”

“Yes, yes. Of course.”

“No one is going to explain why Vexen is suddenly back—oh forget it.” Marluxia gave up on playing catch-up.

“Let’s return home,” Xemnas ordered his comrades. “I’d say we’ve earned a good night’s rest.”

One by one, the Organization left the shadow of Memory’s Skyscraper, until it was just Vexen standing alone, still stupefied.

Curious, Demyx turned back. “What’s the matter, Vexen?”

“I…I still can’t believe it,” Vexen admitted. “All this the time—the years I’ve worked here, our time travelling, the ten years I’ve spent alone time travelling—all this time and _now_ I get what I want.” He shook his head. “I just don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand that you finally got what you want?” Demyx put his arm around Vexen’s back. “Vexen, my friend…that’s what happens when you spend a long, long time, never ever giving up. There comes a point when you don’t think you’ll ever win and…” He smirked. “…success becomes a surprise.”

Vexen nodded. “So what comes after? The ‘win’, I mean.”

Demyx shrugged. “I got no idea. I’m as new to this as you.”

And so the friends walked together back to the Castle That Never Was, ready for a promising new future.

***

Zexion was in his room searching his bookcase when there was a knock at the door.

“Hey, bookworm,” Axel greeted, arms crossed and leaning against the wall. “Looking for a page-turner at this hour of night? Figured you’d be in bed, dreaming of an army of mannequins.”

“Not dreaming if it was a reality,” Zexion said with a smile. “You were out there when we unleashed those guys. Thing of beauty.”

“Yeah. Hot stuff. I assume you’re gonna program more things for them to say?”

“Definitely. Would you believe Lexaeus gave a list of suggestions for his speech options?” Zexion chuckled. “Guy’s a lot of things. Was not expecting poet to be one of them.”

Axel smiled, eying the bookshelves Zexion was searching. “Anything there about Kantian philosophy?”

“Hm?” Zexion turned. “Oh. Yes. Over…” He searched the shelves before settling on one. “…here. What? You wanna read about it?”

“Oh, no. Definitely not. Pfft.” Axel laughed. “I was just curious. You kept naming dropping that guy during our…escapade. Just wondering what his deal was.”

“Oh, nothing too deep,” Zexion waved off the complexity of the issue. “All you need to know about it is it advises you to have a strict code of ethics. There’s a strict good and evil dynamic. It really isn’t all that special.”

“Huh,” Axel nodded. “So…basically, you were teaching me—in our cover-up—to grow a moral code?”

Zexion found the book he was looking for and took it off the shelf with a sigh. “If it means anything, it was part of the lie.”

Axel looked up.

“Saying you needed to be a good person.” Zexion walked towards Axel, book hugged to his chest. “You may be sketchy as all hell, Axel, but underneath it all, you’re a good guy. And when push comes to shove, you’ll do the right thing. Like, hey! You busted me out of jail, and we helped save the day. That’s something, right?”

“Yeah. I guess it is.”

There was a brief quiet.

“Now Albert Camus,” Zexion spoke up. “That’s your guy. Third shelf down, five books in. Give him a read.”

“Thanks,” Axel said somberly, but with a grin. “I might just.”

Zexion left the room and walked briskly down the corridor, leaving Axel at Zexion’s door. Once the academic was out of sight, Axel’s smile faded. He looked over his shoulder.

Saix was staring back from his room, a penetrating look that carried the burden of a history layered with a sense of obligation and duty. It resembled a friendship fractured but still somewhat intact, still something worth saving.

Still something he would do anything to preserve.

Axel shut off the lights for Zexion’s room and closed the door, hoping that fractured friendship wouldn’t come to conflict with this new friendship with Zexion.

Because sadly, he wasn’t sure which bond would win out in the end. And that anxiety crushed Axel.

***

Elrena sat herself down in a booth at the Moogle Tavern of Daybreak Town, tailing down the Moogle waiter, “One sea-salt sundae please.”

“Whatever you say, kupo.” He flew towards the kitchen to get to work on her order.

The young Keyblade wielder was in a melancholic mood since that lady vanished into the light. Maybe she could have helped Elrena explain why she was in the clocktower to the foretellers. The scolding they gave her—the worst that she could remember. They even punished her with a two-week suspension. Elrena couldn’t imagine things getting worse.

“Well, if it isn’t the shooting star-seeker.”

_Oh no…_

The trio of her tormentors were sitting in the booth next to hers, still hungry for a good bullying.

“What’s the matter, Larxene?” mocked the cake-hatted boy. “You got nothing to show off?”

“Oh, please,” said the girl in overalls. “What _great_ discoveries can she make when she’s grounded?”

“HA HA,” the child in the fursuit laughed uproariously. “You’re grounded! Like a baby!”

Their jibes and their mocking blurred into one monotonous but tormenting white noise which only annoyed and annoyed her more and more. Elrena wanted to run out of there, she wanted to cry, she wanted to not be as alone…

She remembered what her only friend had told her before vanishing into that flash of light.

Elrena took her advice. “I…” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t ask for your garbage opinion.”

A shockwave resounded through the building, sending those children flying back three booths away and her sea-salt sundae into the Moogle’s face. It was so powerful it transcended the building and encompassed the entire town. No, the entire world. In fact, it transcended time…

***

Larxene sat up in a cold sweat on the Grey Area’s sofa, breathing heavily.

“…and then we enlist a third member. I was thinking either Axel or Demyx. Someone who doesn’t care about ‘responsibility’…” Marluxia trailed off, realizing how disoriented Larxene looked. “Sorry, am I boring you?”

“Wha…?” Larxene wiped her forehead and caught her breath. “Just felt something weird. Like something clicked into place or whatever.” She paused, deep in thought. “Forget it. Go on with that coup shit.”

“It’s not shit!” Marluxia yelped defensively. “It’s _very_ important! And would you keep it down? I don’t know if anyone’s still up…”

“Yeah, yeah, Flower-Power,” Larxene reclined on the couch. “Proceed.”

Marluxia squawked on and on, but Larxene couldn’t help but wonder what that feeling was, as if her existence was suddenly validated in that moment. Felt weird. Also felt pretty good.

Larxene didn’t give it much thought.

***

“Pen…pen…pen…oh, damn it all. It was in this drawer the whole time.”

Vexen took out his presenting pen from the back of his desk’s lower-left drawer, sat down in his chair, and got to work highlighting and underlining his notes on the replica program.

“Hey, Vex.”

The scientist peered over his shoulder. “Demyx. Why, hello. What brings you here?”

“Just wanted to see how you were doing.” The sitarist squinted a bit more at Vexen, who was now beardless and in a new coat. “Clean shave. I would have kept it, though. Shape it like a soul patch. That’s what men your age do, isn’t it?”

“Men my age,” Vexen guffawed. “I’m not _that_ old.” He stopped and considered. “Well, it has been ten years and a day since I’ve last seen you…merciful Hades, I _am_ old, aren’t I?”

“Absolutely geriatric,” Demyx said with a smirk. “You’re still pretty chill, though.”

“I suppose I am,” Vexen said, not exactly in with the kids’ lingo but proud of it all the same.

“Before you get to work,” Demyx reached inside his coat and unveiled a vinyl record. “I wanted to give this to you. It’s an oldie from my intergalactic record collection. Figured it’d be nice background noise.”

Vexen grabbed the record and read the label aloud. “’ _I Remember You_ by Lita Roza.’” He furrowed his brow, confused. “Why this?”

“Well, I just figured after you, uh, _remembered_ Ansem it made sense, since you two were so close.” Demyx grinned with pride. “Pretty clever, right?”

“Yes, yes. A real genius, you are,” Vexen took another glance at the record. “What a pity.”

“Hm?”

“All the harm I did him, how little I appreciated him…” Vexen shook his head. “Even if my research does become successful, he won’t be here to see it. He’ll still be gone. My work will be meaningless.”

Demyx put his hand on Vexen’s shoulder. “Only if you don’t believe in yourself. Only if you give up. And we both know you’re strong enough to go on.” He patted his friend on the back. “Stay frosty, man.”

And like that, Demyx had left Vexen with tons of research to do and a record in his hands.

Vexen sighed and searched his desk for his media player. Upon finding it, he placed the record on the spindle and turned on the device. The sound of scratchy jazz ensued.

“ _I remember you/You’re the one who made my dreams come true/A few kisses ago…_ ”

Vexen smiled, despite himself. The woman’s vocals were strong and pronounced, as if battling the musicians behind her. Her striving to be heard amongst the cacophony surrounding her—it resonated with him.

“ _I remember you/You’re the one who said, ‘I love you, too’/Yes, I do, didn’tcha know?_ ”

An idea struck him in that moment. He searched his desk for the one possession he kept for all those years alone, traversing different timelines and worlds. The one thing that kept him through all the hardships, that motivated him to return home…

“ _I remember, too, a distant bell/and stars that fell/Like the rain out of the blue…_ ”

The picture he took of young Even and Ansem in Radiant Garden, all those years ago. A tear came to Vexen’s eye but also a smile. For the picture was not just a reminder of a beautiful friendship, of the one person who had ever believed in him, but it was also a reminder of what Ansem and later Demyx taught him: Vexen was worth believing in. He was worth saving. Vexen was a genius, a leader, a friend. Vexen was capable of accomplishing great things and, dare he think it, being a good man.

“ _When my life is through/And the angels ask me to recall/The thrill of it all/Then I will tell them to remember you…_ ”

Vexen pinned the photo to his bulletin board, his childhood self and dearest friend now presiding over his work. The chilly academic dove into his notes, scribbling and writing and drawing up diagrams, drowning in his research to the warming sound of big band music, assured in the knowledge that everything he would do from this point on would be in his best friend’s name. Vexen would persevere. He would not give up. He would continue to believe in himself.

Vexen would not go gentle into that good night.

**THE END**

Demyx was tuning his sitar in his room when Zexion knocked on his door, holding a book. “Whoa! Book-Master! What a surprise!”

“…Book-Master?” Zexion said incredulously.

“Yeah! Cause books are your thing!” He shot him a finger-gun. “What brings you to the Demyx Den?” He paused. “Den of Demyx.” He paused again. “I’m still working it out.”

“I can tell.” Zexion sat down beside Demyx on his bed, placing the book on his lap. “Do you know what this is?”

Demyx took his time answering, because he was pretty sure what it was, but it seemed too easy. “…that’s a book.”

“A book about famous historical figures in American history,” Zexion elaborated.

“Okayyyyy,” Demyx nodded. “What does this have to do with me?”

“You mentioned something tonight,” Zexion began to explain, opening the book and flipping through the pages. “Something that sounded peculiar. Not because it didn’t make sense but because it _did_.”

“I’m not following…”

“I’ve heard it before. It was familiar because I read about it in this book…”

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa,” Demyx interrupted Zexion’s lecture. “You and I both know I’ve never referenced a book in my life.”

“Well, you did this one time, however inadvertently.” Zexion settled on a page and handed the book to Demyx. “Second subheading on the left page.”

The young man’s jaw dropped once he read the passage. “No way…”

“The Love Monkey,” Zexion said with a smile. “Activist of the late 1980’s, New York politician of the early 1990’s, and United States President of the late 1990’s.”

“But…” Demyx stammered, flabbergasted. “We left him in a subway tunnel with a bunch of cops. I thought he died…”

“Died, no. Jailed, yes.” Zexion clasped his hands together. “A talking lemur causing a ruckus with the police, saying ‘I am the Love Monkey! I am the Love Monkey!’ was an odd thing in the news cycle. But it was an event so strange, so odd, so…disturbing that it inspired an otherwise complacent generation of youngsters. There was something so inherently simple about the lemur’s words. ‘I am the Love Monkey’ became ‘We are the Love Monkey.’ Soon enough, the Love Monkey himself joined the movement he inspired. Led it actually, once his followers broke him out of jail…”

“Wow,” Demyx said, bewildered. “That’s metal as fuck.”

“Yes, it is.” Zexion blinked. “Wait, shouldn’t you know this? I thought you knew everything about the 1980’s.”

“I know _discographies_ from the 1980’s. As for _biographies_ , I have no clue.” He wove his hand frantically. “C’mon! Keep reading!”

Zexion returned to the book. “The Love Monkey championed a number of righteous causes, from weed legalization to LGBT rights. He later became a New York senator, passed a number of progressive policies. Policies which he would translate into his presidency, passing them on a national scale.”

“Wow,” Demyx beamed, though he was a little choked up. “He really accomplished a lot, huh?” His expression darkened. “He’s not with us anymore, is he?”

“He passed in July of 2005,” Zexion clarified morosely. “Though he _did_ write some memoirs shortly before his death.”

“He wrote _memoirs_?” Demyx was stunned. “Was it all ‘I’m the Love Monkey’?”

“That’s how he spoke, not how he wrote,” Zexion replied. “I should also mention he won the Pulitzer Prize but that’s getting off-topic. Here’s an excerpt from his last memoir. Read it.”

Demyx narrowed his eyes and read the text Zexion was pointing at. “’I have so many people to thank, but the least of which can’t be the three people who saved me from my lowly beginnings in the jungle. They are who I should accredit most of my success. I never learned their names from our limited interaction (my cognizance then was so feeble), but with their spirits I’m overly-familiar. The pragmatic professor who led our group out of the jungle, the tenacious fighter who felled obstacle after obstacle, and…’” Demyx’s voice cracked, as tears came to his eyes. “…and the creative and clever musician. He was my first and dearest friend. Without his beautiful melodies, I’m not sure I’d ever have seen the beauty in life I see now. He sang with an undeniable hope and vigor that I do my damnedest to translate into my work. I don’t know where he or any of the others are after that fateful clash in that subway tunnel, but I want them to know that they made me realize my potential. Without them, I would not be the Love Monkey I am today, and to them, I am forever indebted.’” Crying freely, Demyx finished the excerpt. “’I hope we’ll meet again in the next life, friends. Until then, you will live on in my memory.’” Demyx was now weeping copiously. Not tears of sorrow, but of joy. Of relief. Of nostalgia, even. He cried mourning but also celebrating one of his closest friends.

“He lived a full life, Demyx,” Zexion said, closing the book. “And he has _you_ to thank for it.”

“Thank you for showing me that,” Demyx dried his tears, beaming. “I…I needed to know he was okay after we left and…” He laughed. “…he did more than okay.”

“Have a good night, Demyx,” Zexion got up and headed for the door. “Sleep well.”

With Zexion gone, Demyx picked up his sitar, ready to return to tuning it when he heard some music a few rooms down. In fact, it was the record he gave Vexen.

“ _I remember, too, a distant bell/and stars that fell/Like the rain out of the blue…_ ”

Demyx played along with the song on his sitar, remembering the Love Monkey and happy for his friend’s success. He was proud to have had such a profound effect on someone, and though he was sad their friendship was short-lived, he was glad it had happened.

Immersing himself in that raucous but soothing jazz resounding through the castle walls, Demyx felt at peace knowing that though he was not the strongest or the smartest or the fastest, above all, he was a good friend.

And that was enough for him.

**THE END (FOR REAL, THIS TIME)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for keeping up with my erratic posting schedule. Hope you liked Vexen's adventure. Please tell me what you think of the story now that it's all wrapped up. Stay frosty, readers.


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